


Everybody Wants To Rule The World Pt 1

by general_galatea



Series: Everybody Wants To Rule The World [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Gen, L'Manberg War of Independence on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), No clue what I'm doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/general_galatea/pseuds/general_galatea
Summary: They're willing to fight for L'manberg...No matter the cost.Sort of a glorified retelling of the L'manberg war. I really don't know what else to say. If you're looking for ships, you will not find them here.
Series: Everybody Wants To Rule The World [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2036143
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	1. The First Shot

**Author's Note:**

> There isn't any graphic violence, but there is definitely violence. This fanfic is just kinda my interpretation of the war for L'manberg. Hope you enjoy!

Tommy stretches languidly and settles back against the tree stump. Starting a new nation is hard work, he’s discovered. It takes a lot of supplies. Axes, swords, food, pickaxes, shovels, and potions. Lots of potions. Not to mention the actual labor needed to make the country, which Tommy’s glad he didn’t have to to do. He feels bad for Wilbur and Eret, diligently building up the walls around the newly-named L’manberg.

_ L’manberg. _ The name just sounds right, rolling smoothly off the tongue. It’s perfect, really. There’s an air of intimidating elegance to it. The perfect name for a brand new country. 

Tommy yawns, glancing at the sun. It’s slowly but steadily making its way down to the horizon. They should probably get going. He stands up reluctantly and calls out to his friends. “Yo, guys! Sun’s going down!”

Tubbo’s head pops up from behind a bush. “What? Already?” he asks in surprise. 

“Tubbo, we’ve been out here all day,” Tommy points out. “I dunno about you, but I’m fucking tired, and I’m going back now.”

They stare at each other for a moment, each confused by the other. Fundy emerges from the trees, pulling at a twig caught in his fur. “I’ll go back,” he yawns, scratching at his ears. “We’ve got a decent haul, Wilbur should be satisfied.”

“Yeah, I think he’ll be happy with it,” Tommy says, surveying the pile of supplies sitting at his feet.

“You barely helped, Tommy.”

Tommy gasps in mock offence. “Sorry,  _ Fundy _ , but I-”

“Does anyone else get the feeling we’re being watched?” Tubbo asks suddenly, interrupting. 

Tommy stops arguing with Fundy and goes still. Tubbo’s usually right about this sort of stuff. All three boys listen apprehensively. 

Then an arrow sprouts from Tommy’s shoulder. He cries out in shock and reels back. Fundy lets out a shout of alarm, and more arrows begin to rain down around them. Someone grabs Tommy’s arm, pulling him behind a tree. He clutches the shaft of the arrow in his shoulder, ready to yank it out, but Tubbo’s hand on his stops him. “Don’t!” he says, flinching as an arrow narrowly misses his head. “You’ll make it worse!”

“How can it be worse?” Tommy yells. Pain spreads from his shoulder, and he sees the dark red staining the blue of his jacket. “We’re being fucking sniped!”

“We have to get back to L’manberg!” shouts Fundy. “We’re too exposed-” He cuts off with a short shriek as an arrow lands directly between his feet. 

Tommy catches a flash of bright green through the trees. “Yep!” he agrees frantically, voice loud in panic. “We gotta get out of here NOW! When I say go, FUCKING RUN!”

He takes a deep breath, ready to shout, but Tubbo bolts forward without his prompting. “GO!’ Tubbo shouts, and Fundy takes off. Tommy hesitates for a split second, then dashes after them. 

The three boys sprint through the woods, arrows flying around them. Then Tommy remembers- “The supplies!”

“Just leave them!” Fundy yells.

“But-” Tommy glances back. The barrage of arrows seems to have slowed down. “Look, I gotta- just keep going!”

“Tommy, don’t!” Tubbo cries, but Tommy’s already turning around. They spent too long gathering those supplies to just leave them for Dream. Wilbur would be so disappointed if they came back with nothing. 

He’s almost forgotten about the arrow in his shoulder when he runs into a tree, glancing off the trunk. The impact forces the arrow deeper, and Tommy shouts in pain. Nevertheless he keeps going, fixated on getting the supplies. He has to do this. 

When he skids into the clearing where they had left the supplies, someone else is already there. Sapnap, poking through the supplies. Tommy lets out a cry of rage, and lunges at Sapnap, completely forgetting about his lack of weapons. He has surprise on his side though; Sapnap’s head jerks up and he fumbles for his axe. He turns at the last second, and Tommy’s momentum carries him straight past his opponent. 

Sapnap lets out a delighted laugh at the sight of Tommy. “Hey, George!” he calls out, and Tommy’s eyes widen. Fuck. He didn’t think this through. He’s going to get overwhelmed. 

Tommy swings wildly at Sapnap, trying to buy time. Somehow his punch connects, and Sapnap staggers back, blood streaming from his nose. With the other boy distracted, Tommy snatches up what he can from the supplies. Two bags full of potions, the food, and several scraps of iron. That’ll have to do for now. 

Sapnap recovers from Tommy’s blow, and slams the butt of his axe into Tommy’s head. Stars burst in front of Tommy’s eyes and he stumbles. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was an absolutely terrible idea. 

He’s managed to keep a hold of the supplies, but he’s not in good shape. Three hazy Sapnaps stand in front of him, and Tommy shakes his head violently, trying to clear his vision.  _ I’m dead. _

Suddenly someone’s got a hold of his arm. Tommy whirls around, ready to fight, and finds Tubbo, eyes wide with panic. “We gotta go!”

“But Sapnap-” Tommy starts.

Tubbo cuts him off. “Fundy’s handling him, it’s fine, we just have to get back to L’manberg!”

With impeccably terrible timing, there’s a yelp from Fundy and the fox bounds over. “We should REALLY get going!” 

Tommy gives in and runs, Tubbo and Fundy hot on his heels. There’s a shout from behind them, and Tommy recognizes George’s voice. Almost on cue, Tubbo cries out in pain and falters, an arrow sticking out of his calf. Tommy turns, ready to help. “Are you-”

“Keep going, don’t worry about me!” Tubbo keeps moving, limping but still quick. He doesn’t quite convince Tommy that he’s fine, but Tommy lets it go for the moment. The important thing for them is getting back to L’manberg. 

Several more arrows are fired in their direction, but none hit their targets. Tommy keeps a firm grip on the supplies he salvaged, aware that they’re slowing him down but unwilling to let them go. They hadn’t gone far from L’manberg, so they don’t have to run for very long. Even so, by the time the walls come into view, Tubbo’s pace has slowed and he makes little pained noises with every step. Tommy’s arm is starting to ache fiercely, and he sees a bruise swelling around Fundy’s eye. 

The three boys burst into the camarvan, startling Wilbur and Eret. “Where the fuck have you-” Wilbur cuts himself off as he takes in the sight. His expression shifts to one of concern. “What happened to you?”

“Supply trip went wrong,” Fundy says before promptly flopping down on the floor.

Wilbur’s eyebrows raise. Eret surveys Tommy and Tubbo. “You have arrows sticking out of you,” he notes.

Tommy lets out an irritated laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”

“Why’d you leave them in?” Wilbur says, standing up and examining the arrow in Tommy’s shoulder with a sort of horrified fascination. 

“Tubbo’s fault.”

Tubbo shoots him a glare. Wilbur rolls his eyes, and grasps the shaft of the arrow. “I’m taking it out,” he tells Tommy. “It’ll hurt but it’s better than leaving it in. Eret, you take care of Tubbo.” He braces his other hand against Tommy’s shoulder. “One, two,  _ three _ .”

Wilbur yanks out the arrow and pain shoots through Tommy. He hisses, watching more blood soak through his jacket. Barely a second later there’s a gasp from Tubbo, and Eret drops a bloody arrow on the floor. “It’s not too deep, you’ll be fine,” he says at the same time as Wilbur exclaims, “Wow! That was deep! What, did you get shot close range?”

“I ran into a tree,” Tommy says through gritted teeth. “Just fix it, okay?”

As Wilbur prepares a potion, Eret takes a closer look at the extracted arrow. “There’s something attached to it,” he says, straightening up. He pulls a scrap of paper off of the arrow, glancing over it. His white eyes go wide, and he turns to Wilbur. “Wilbur… you need to see this.”

Wilbur takes the paper from Eret and his face darkens. “That’s… fuck.”

“What?” Tommy and Tubbo ask in unison. Fundy stands up, his tail flicking nervously.

“It’s…” Wilbur shakes his head and wordlessly holds out the paper. Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy crowd around him, trying to get a closer look. The paper reads three simple words. 

_ This means war :) _

Tommy sucks in a breath. Tubbo’s face pales, and Eret leans against the windowsill, biting his lip. “That’s- well- fuck,” Tommy stammers. “I mean… fuck.”

“Well that’s not good,” is all Tubbo says. 

“Wilbur, you have to surrender,” Eret says. He sounds more anxious that his expression let on. “This was a fun idea, but we cannot hold up against the Dream Team. We’re going to get  _ killed _ if we try to fight.”

Wilbur’s motionless for a moment. “We can’t surrender,” he says quietly. “We’re too far into this to just give up.”

Eret laughs incredulously. “We have almost no supplies. No weapons, no armor, not even splash potions. This is Dream we’re talking about. He might be one of the best fighters in the world besides Technoblade. Where do you think you’re going with this, Wilbur?”

“We started this nation. I’m not going to give it up that easily. Dream’s not invincible.”

“This isn’t worth it.” Eret’s voice rises. “They have the upper hand here. We have  _ nothing _ . Someone could die, Wilbur!  _ We have no choice! _ ”

“I am your leader,” Wilbur says stoically. “We have every right to fight for L’manberg, and that is what I intend to do. We’ve worked this land, we’ve built these walls, and if I have to fight for it, then for fuck’s sake I am going to fight for it.” He fixes a hard gaze on Eret. “I will fight for L’manberg with my final breath. If you don’t feel the same way, then leave.”

Eret stares at him. His mouth is set in a firm, defiant line. Tommy’s eyes flicker back and forth between the two men. Of course he supports Wilbur, but a fight between Eret and Wilbur could go either way and he doesn’t want to get caught in the crossfire.

Finally Eret relents. “Fine. I’ll stand with you, Wilbur. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He turns on his heel and walks out of the camarvan. 

A tense silence stretches out. Tommy swallows hard. “Wilbur, will he-”

“He’ll come back,” Wilbur sighs. He doesn’t look particularly upset, just tired. “I see where he’s coming from. He’s right; we don’t have much of an advantage. But I’m willing to fight anyways. L’manberg will stand strong.”

Tommy grins, nervous and excited. They’ll fight. “For L’manberg!”


	2. That Would Be Enough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do switch character perspectives, by the way. Usually the point of view switches every chapter (with a few exceptions)

Niki wipes flour-covered hands on her apron and steps back, surveying her work. She doesn’t have too much experience in the baking area, so she’s pleasantly surprised with the results of the bread she’s trying to make. The dough actually doesn’t look too bad compared to her last attempt, which is a sticky mess in the bin. Niki just needs to let the yeast rise, and then pop it in the furnace. 

She scoops up the dough and plops it into a bowl, scraping the last bits off her hands. A scrap of fabric goes over the bowl, and Niki places it to the side of the counter. One down…

Thirty one more to go.

Maybe for someone with no baking experience she’s overstepping her boundaries. That single batch of dough had taken her an hour to make, and she plans to make thirty two batches in total. 

“Okay, that is… a lot,” she murmurs to herself.

Niki’s intention with starting the bakery was to provide food for the SMP. When Will first brought her in, she had noticed how it seemed to be everyone for themselves. Will didn’t have food on him and had just eaten a carrot straight from the ground, apparently unconcerned with who it belonged to. He registered this as life; Niki registered it as a problem. So when Dream let her stay, her first goal was to create a steady supply of food. The bakery is open to anyone who wants food, and it’s basically free. It wouldn’t feel right to charge people for the food they so clearly need.

A long yawn escapes Niki’s mouth, and she realizes just how tired she is. Hmm. She’s been working for… what, two days? 

Hmmm.

_ Perhaps a couple hours of sleep would be beneficial.  _

As she starts to head into the back room, the door to the bakery flies open with a bang. Niki whirls around, startled, and Eret storms into the bakery. He walks straight to the counter and starts pulling ingredients out of the cabinets, slamming them down on the counter roughly. 

“Is… everything alright, Eret?” Niki asks, alarmed by Eret’s aggression. He’s not usually like this. 

Eret shakes his head, grabbing an apron and wrapping it around his waist. “They’re going to get themselves killed!”

That’s not what Niki was expecting. “What?” she cries.

He snatches a bowl, throwing ingredients in. “I thought it was supposed to be a harmless joke,” Eret says, his jaw clenched. “But he’s taken it too far, drawn too much attention to himself, and-” He cuts himself off, shaking his head again and stirring the mixture he’s made violently.

“Eret, what’s going on?”

Eret sighs and almost seems to deflate. “Wilbur’s going to get himself, Tubbo, Fundy, and Tommy killed.”

Niki’s heart skips a beat. “What- what do you mean? What’s he doing?”

The stirring seems to be helping Eret. He sighs again, and when he speaks, his voice is calmer. “Dream isn’t happy with Wilbur starting L’manberg. He let us know with an arrow to Tommy’s shoulder. And Wilbur refuses to back down. He can’t possibly be expecting to win, and he says he’ll fight anyways.” 

“It’ll mean a war,” Niki says softly. Her thoughts turn frantically in her head. A war with the Dream Team would be catastrophic. Not just for Will and L’manberg, but for the entire server. She knows Will, and she knows that he won’t give up easily. The only way he’ll surrender is if he has nothing left, and even then she knows he’ll struggle with it. People would be forced to choose sides. There’ll be casualties for both sides. 

This will tear the server apart.

Eret laughs hollowly. “Wilbur doesn’t stand a chance. He’ll get destroyed. And he’s bringing the younger boys into it. Wilbur is willing to drag them down with him for this revolution.”

“Will knows what he’s doing,” Niki whispers, but it’s more for herself than for Eret. 

“And if someone gets killed?” 

Niki doesn’t respond. She crosses over to Eret and glances into his bowl. It looks like he’s making cookies.  _ Stress baking. _ She pulls a pan out from under the counter and spreads wax paper over it, preparing it for Eret. “What are you going to do?” she asks quietly. 

He’s slow to answer. “I’m… not sure. I don’t want to fight with Wilbur, but he cannot go through with this. There’s so many risks…”

The pair works in silence for a while. Eret finishes mixing the cookie dough, and sets the bowl down on the counter. Niki begins scooping up handfuls of dough and shaping them into balls before placing them on the tray, and Eret does the same. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but Niki breaks it anyways.

“Will wouldn’t start something he doesn’t think he has a chance of winning,” she says slowly. “If he’s going to fight, he must think he’ll be able to win. He knows what he’s getting into. I trust his decisions.” Niki glances at Eret. “But Will can also get reckless. When he’s backed into a corner, he acts without thinking. Whatever you decide to do…” 

She takes a deep breath. “Please, just try to take care of them.”

Eret’s white eyes lock onto Niki’s brown ones. “I swear on my life I’ll do what I can to keep them safe.” 

“Thank you, Eret.” She holds his gaze for another moment, then breaks eye contact and picks up the pan of cookie dough. “I- I’m no fighter. I do not think I’ll be of much help if it really does come to war. But I can provide food and shelter, if you need it. I have medical supplies as well.” She slides the pan into the furnace and stands up. “If you need it, you can take it.”

“We’ll try not to deprive you of your supplies, but thank you anyways.” Eret shifts his weight from foot to foot and stares out of the window. “I should go back. Try and talk some sense into Wilbur…”

Niki nods. “I’ll deliver the cookies to you when they’re done. And Eret…”

Eret pauses, one hand on the doorknob. Niki smiles half-heartedly. “Don’t be too discouraged if Will doesn’t listen. He can be a bit hard-headed. If it goes too far, he’ll stop.”  _ I hope. _

The man flashes her a tight smile and leaves the bakery, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door clicks shut, Niki sinks down into a chair.

A war with the Dream Team…

What has Will gotten himself into?

There’s so many variables in a war. So many things that can go horribly wrong. If Will isn’t careful, Eret’s right. He could get someone killed. Not that Niki doesn’t trust Will, but he’s not just putting himself in danger. Niki knows the sort of reckless things that Tubbo, Fundy, and especially Tommy can do when they get excited. Will needs to be able to rein them in if that happens. He doesn’t have to just look after himself now, he has to make sure that none of the younger boys get hurt. 

“Eret will help him,” Niki whispers out loud to herself. After all, he promised. He wouldn’t betray Niki’s trust like that. 

_ I need something to do. Keep me distracted. _

Every new nation needs a flag, doesn’t it?

Niki gets up from the chair dazedly. Part of her knows it’s a silly idea, but she’s already thinking of designs and colors. Blue can be used for liberty. Red for the blood that will inevitably be spilt. Yellow and black, like the walls.. 

She hesitates for a moment before settling on the last color. White. Peace. Perhaps not the best choice at the time, but hopefully the conflict will settle. But for the meanwhile, Niki will do what she can for L’manberg. A flag, food, potions, whatever they need.

_ All Will has to do is stay alive. _


	3. Declaration

Several days of tense apprehension pass. Every unexpected sound, every stray twig snapping makes Tubbo jump, terrified that there’ll be an attack. But no attacks come. It almost seems like Dream forgot about his warning. 

Over the days, Tubbo slowly starts to relax. The arrow he had taken didn’t go too deep, and Eret had done an excellent job taking it out. Tubbo had limped for a day or so, but now all that remains of the injury is a faint, knotted scar. Tommy’s was worse; the arrow had hit a bad place, and the combination of accidentally pushing the arrow deeper and Tommy’s initial refusal to properly treat it made the wound worse than it had to be. But the past couple days have been lax, giving Tommy time to heal.

“Come on, Wilbur, my shoulder’s fine now, just let me go out! I want to do  _ something!” _

Of course, that doesn’t stop Tommy from complaining. 

Tubbo’s head snaps back and forth as he tries to keep track of the argument. “No,” Wilbur says firmly. “You wince every time something so much as brushes your arm. It’s your own fault that it got this bad, and now you have to stay and heal. Fundy and Eret can handle supply trips.”

Tommy groans dramatically. “Wilbur, I’m  _ fine! _ I already wasted three days staying here, it doesn’t hurt anymore, just let me at least go check on-”

“No.”

“But Wilbur-”

Wilbur drops his hand onto Tommy’s shoulder, provoking a hiss of pain. “‘It doesn’t hurt anymore,’” he repeats, raising his eyebrows. “Yes, I believe you, Tommy, you’re  _ definitely _ not feeling pain anymore, you’re  _ definitely _ ready to leave L’manberg, you can  _ definitely  _ take on the Dream Team if they catch you.”

He squeezes Tommy’s shoulder, and Tubbo winces at the ensuing yelp. He doesn’t like seeing his friends in pain. “It’s okay, Tommy and I can stay here and make more potions,” Tubbo says hastily, trying to deflect Wilbur’s attention from Tommy.

Unfortunately Tommy doesn’t catch on to Tubbo’s plan. “We’ve made so many potions in the past three days, I could make them in my sleep,” he argues, brushing off Tubbo’s attempt at resolving the conflict. “C’mon, Wilbur!”

“No. That’s final.” Wilbur releases Tommy. “I’m going to check on Eret and Fundy. You two,  _ stay here. _ If there’s any sign that either of you have left, I will personally see to it that both of you are put in a bedrock hole with no materials.” 

Before either boy can protest, Wilbur walks out of the hot dog van. Tubbo hears the lock click behind him. “Man,” he says dejectedly. “I really thought-”

Tommy rounds on him “Yeah, thanks for backing me up there,” he says in a sarcastic voice. “‘Oh yeah let’s just stay and make some potions- like you don’t wanna get out of here too!”

Tubbo opens his mouth to defend himself but Tommy’s already moving on. He ducks under the table in the center of the room and pulls open a trapdoor. “C’mon. I’ve started making a sewer system, we can follow it to my house.”

“But Wilbur said-”

His friend cuts him off again. “Wilbur doesn’t have to know about it. Come on, Tubbo, we can make it back before he does, you know we can.” 

_ I doubt that, _ Tubbo wants to say, but he stays quiet. Suddenly the lock on the door clicks again. Tubbo jumps, and Tommy quickly shuts the trapdoor, standing up just as Wilbur comes back through the door. “Change of plans,” he says, pale and stone-faced. “I need you both to come with me.”

Tubbo and Tommy exchange a glance. “Wilbur, what-”

“Dream’s here,” Wilbur says simply. 

“Ohhh…” Tommy trails off nervously. 

“Do you know what he wants?” Tubbo asks. He tries to hide his nerves, but the shaking in his voice betrays it.

Wilbur lets out a sort of half-laugh. “Fuck if I know; I saw him standing on top of the wall and turned right around. I don’t think he even saw me. There’s no way he doesn’t want something though. Come on. Let’s find out.”

“What happened to the bedrock hole, huh?” Tommy wonders, but he follows Wilbur out anyway. Tubbo does as well.

As soon as he steps out from the cover of the camarvan, Tubbo spots Dream. He’s never exactly inconspicuous in his bright green hoodie and white mask, but it doesn’t even look like he’s trying to hide. Tubbo shivers. That isn’t like Dream. Something’s off about this.

Neither Wilbur nor Tommy hesitate, both heading straight for the ladder leading to the top of the wall. Tubbo follows more slowly. He’s not really sure he wants to do this. There’s no sign of Punz, George, or Sapnap, but that doesn’t matter. Despite being outnumbered, Dream could easily take all three L’manbergians. 

_ This feels like a trap. _

Dream notices their approach and turns around, letting them come to him. Wilbur tenses, evidently realizing this, but goes with it anyways. He leads Tommy and Tubbo forward, stopping a few paces away from Dream. “Dream,” he says, nodding a greeting.

“Wilbur,” Dream returns. Tubbo can’t place his tone; the mask makes it impossible to gauge emotions. “I want to talk.”

“We were thinking the same thing,” Wilbur says pleasantly. 

There’s no sign of arising conflict, but Tubbo still fidgets anxiously. Tommy seems to sense his anxiety and shifts every so slightly in front of Tubbo, blocking him from Dream’s view. Tubbo wants to thank Tommy but stays quiet, not wanting to draw attention to himself.

Dream glances over the trio. Tubbo’s relieved to see his gaze skim right over him. “You’re missing some people,” he notices. 

Tommy tenses, all of them fully aware that Fundy and Eret are stealing from Sapnap’s house, but Wilbur remains calm. “We’ve had a shortage of supplies.” He draws out the word ‘supplies’ and Tubbo immediately sees the angle he’s playing. “Fundy and Eret are helping us out.”

Wilbur’s meaning isn’t lost on Dream, who laughs. The sound sends chills up Tubbo’s spine and he inches closer to Tommy. “I had to send a message,” Dream says, apparently buying the excuse. “Speaking of a message, you’ve had some time to think it over.” He waits expectantly.

Tubbo barely dares to breathe.  _ This could go very well, or very, VERY poorly. _ Wilbur sighs, a smile toying at the corner of his mouth. “We heard your message loud and clear. You may threaten us with war, but we will not back down. We are willing to fight for this nation we’ve created. L’manberg will stand strong.”

“You understand that if you don’t surrender, we will not hold back.” Dream’s voice becomes deadly calm. 

“Please, like we’re scared of you, you green bas-” Wilbur claps his hand over Tommy’s mouth before he can finish. Tubbo grabs Tommy’s sleeve and pulls him back, shaking his head violently. 

“We understand what will happen if we do not give in to your-” Wilbur hesitates for a split second before ending with, “-tyranny.” 

_ Oh that wasn’t the right thing to say. _

Unfortunately Tubbo’s right. Dream goes absolutely still. Then he takes a step forward. “There will be  _ no mercy _ .”

Wilbur steps back, forcing Tubbo and Tommy to shuffle back as well. “Dream-”

Dream continues to advance. “We have NO MERCY! NO MERCY FOR YOU!” He shoves Wilbur roughly, and Wilbur stumbles. “We will burn down your houses, kill  _ everything _ inside your walls, and we will TAKE BACK the land that is RIGHTFULLY OURS!”

In a single, smooth motion, Dream unsheathes his sword and flicks it up in a deadly arc of netherite. Wilbur’s head jerks sideways, a thin line of blood streaking across his cheek. Tubbo flinches back and Tommy lets out an outraged cry. 

“I want to see  _ white flags!” _ Dream shouts. He looks absolutely feral. “White flags, outside your base, by tomorrow, at dawn, or you are DEAD!” 

He jams his sword into the blackstone of the wall and turns on his heel. The sword sticks in the blackstone, quivering from the force. Dream pauses and looks back at them. Tubbo feels his eyes lock on to his. “Oh, and I would watch your house, Tubbo.” 

With that, Dream jumps off of the wall. Tommy rushes to the edge, then turns back and shakes his head. “He’s gone, that egotistical green son of a bitch-”

“Watch… my house?” Tubbo echoes, his voice shaking. Beside him, Wilbur touches his face and winces at the sight of the blood. “Why would I-”

The realization hits him hard. Wilbur steps deliberately in front of him, blocking the ladder. “Tubbo-”

Tubbo lunges for the ladder anyways. “No, no, nonono-”

Wilbur catches him around the waist and pulls him back. “Tubbo, calm down, it’s not worth it-”

“He’s going to- he’ll destroy- let me go, he’s going to destroy my house!” Tubbo gasps out, thrashing against Wilbur’s grip. “I have to- I can’t let him-  _ please _ , Wilbur!”

“Tommy, get over here and help me.” Wilbur’s voice is sad. Tubbo struggles harder, and manages to wrest free only for Tommy to grab his wrist. 

“Tubbo, Tubbo man, there’s nothing you can do, you can’t stop him, Tubbo,” Tommy murmurs. Unlike Wilbur his face is tight with anger, but he still holds Tubbo back.

“Nonono, Tommy- I worked so hard on it- all my things are there-” 

Tubbo breaks down into sobs.  _ My house… _

_ It’s gone. _

He doesn’t know how long he crouches on the wall, tears spilling from his eyes, Tommy’s arms wrapped around him. All of his progress… his belongings…

All gone.

Finally Tubbo stands up. Wilbur watches him warily, ready to catch him if he attempts to run off again. Tubbo isn’t intending to run though. “Let’s go,” he says dully. 

Tommy shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Tubbo-”

“Let’s just go.” Tubbo doesn’t trust himself enough to look in the direction where his house is- was. “L’manberg needs supplies.”

_ L’manberg is my home now. _

_ And I’ll defend it with my life. _


	4. Fight Or Flight

The cut on his cheek stings. Wilbur hisses softly. The “talk” with Dream hadn’t gone at all as planned. He knew he had been pushing Dream’s buttons- purposefully antagonizing him- but he expected Dream to remain calm. Wilbur had not been expecting a promise to kill everything within L’manberg.

What’s worse is that it would seem that Dream fully intends on carrying through with his threats. Wilbur had snuck into the SMP to check out Tubbo’s house the night before and see if Dream had actually destroyed it. The house had been reduced to a pile of smoldering and charred sticks.

Wilbur sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. This is a mess. He hasn’t let Tubbo see his house, despite the younger boy’s pleas. It would be too traumatic. Wilbur might not have been able to protect the house, but he can still try to protect Tubbo. 

_ This is a bloody fucking mess. _

How is he going to win a war against the Dream Team and protect his boys? Most of the time he can barely manage to protect himself. Wilbur’s never been much of a fighter. He’s simply not built for it. He’s too lanky to rely on muscle, and too tall to rely on agility. If he has to fight, Wilbur depends on his allies for protection. He chooses the strongest one and sticks close to them, letting them handle the stronger opponents. Wilbur darts in and out of the fight, picking off the weaker ones. It’s not necessarily the honorable strategy, but it’s the smart one for him.

Unfortunately it’s a useless strategy now. In most fights, he’s just a backup. A pawn for the king to use. But now Wilbur is the leader. It’s his job- his  _ responsibility _ to take care of the other boys. No more striking from the shadows. Wilbur has to be the one to pick the battles and choose the strategies. And they sure as hell aren’t going to win using Wilbur’s typical style.

“What am I going to do, what am I going to do?” Wilbur mutters to himself. He needs to think. Find strategies. 

He chuckles darkly to himself. He shouldn’t have thought of the chess analogy.  _ I’m a pawn that’s reached the other side of the chessboard. I pushed too far; now I’ve got my own power.  _

_ Is this because I left Phil and Techno? _

Wilbur shakes his head hard. No. Those are not the thoughts he needs right now. He doesn’t need their help with this. He can do this on his own. 

He can prove himself to them. 

_ Maybe… maybe I can use them. Not ask them for help. But… use them. _

What would they do? If they were facing the Dream Team, what would they do?

Technoblade wouldn’t shy away from the fight. He wouldn’t play defense; he’d push the offense. Techno’s strengths lie in, well, strength. Intimidation is also a specialty of his, and he’s smarter than his rep lets on. Wilbur saw this first hand several months ago, in a different war.

_ A war against Tommy, actually. _

The memory makes Wilbur smile. Tommy had bothered everyone enough to make Techno put his foot down. Techno, Phil, Charlie, Pete, and Wilbur had banded together to fight Tommy.  _ Oh, how things have changed… _

If Techno was here, he would opt to fight. He’d make the first move, strike quickly and efficiently. There’d be some strategy to it, but it would ultimately come down to brute strength and skill for him. He’d simply overpower Dream. 

Wilbur thinks briefly about his team and their fighting skills, then quickly casts aside the idea. No. Overpowerment is not an option.

Philza, on the other hand, would try for negotiations first. Again, not an option. But Phil is not one to be underestimated when it comes to combat. If negotiations failed, he’d be able to fight and fight well. That’s one thing Wilbur’s learned about Phil; he’s quite the experienced fighter. Phil would fight more strategically than Techno. He’d pick and choose his battles to maximize the damage for his opponents and minimize the injuries for his allies.

_ I will admit, their flight skills would be useful here though. _

Both Techno and Phil- but Phil especially- are considerably skilled with flying. Techno loves his planes, and he’s not bad with an enchanted trident either. Philza literally has massive purple-gray wings sprouting from beneath his shoulder blades. Wilbur’s tried planes, tridents, and- at Philza’s encouragement- artificial elytra wings before. He ran into a tree with elytra, a training hoop with a trident, and managed to crash multiple planes, coming away from each incident with gashes and broken bones. The elytra collision was his first experience with broken ribs, and had earned himself a month away from any action.

Yeah. His family’s prowess with flying might be an advantage. And it’s definitely out of the question for Wilbur to attempt it himself. 

Wilbur snarls in frustration and kicks over an empty potion stand. No one else is in the hot dog van to judge him; he’ll fix it before anyone can witness his rage. 

“I have NOTHING!”

He  _ cannot _ call in Philza and Technoblade. Wilbur needs this. He needs this taste of control, this tantalizing glimpse of power. It’ll prove to his father and brother that he can handle himself. And he  _ can.  _ He can figure this out. He has to.

Well… there’s one other option.

One other person he could draw ideas from.

_ Jschlatt. _

Wilbur wants to scream. If turning to Schlatt is his last resort then L’manberg is definitely fucked. 

But then again, they were fucked the moment Dream declared war.

Schlatt really doesn’t have much fighting skill. His style is closer to Wilbur’s, which is probably why they get along so well. Aaaand why probably they fight so often. Schlatt doesn’t allow for there to be a fight. He strikes when his opponents least expect it.  _ Hidden barbs and daggers, _ Wilbur thinks, a tad bit bitter. Schlatt ends it before it has a chance to begin. 

A defeated sigh escapes Wilbur’s mouth. A large part of what makes Schlatt a deadly opponent is his erraticness. Nothing he does is predictable. The moment you think you’ve got him figured out, he changes. There’s nothing one hundred percent certain about Schlatt and his patterns. Wilbur would know. 

“None of these are strategies I can employ,” Wilbur thinks aloud. “I can’t mimic Schlatt’s unpredictability. And besides, there’s no way for me to be as tricky in a fucking war. I don’t have the sort of strength Techno does. The only one who does is… Eret.” He sighs again. “I’m not smart enough to use Phil’s tactics. My own fighting style is useless. Tommy just irritates everyone and yells. Fundy’s never had to fight a war before. Tubbo isn’t a fighter. Our one good fighter doesn’t even want to fight.”

_ Bloody. Fucking. Mess. _

Although… 

Maybe Wilbur can’t use the same tactics as his family. But he can certainly modify their strategies to fit his needs. 

Technoblade’s strategy would work well in their situation. It would provide a shock factor- even to Wilbur it’s obvious that Dream expects to play the offense. If L’manberg can force him into defense, it could give them an edge over him. They might not be able to use the same brute force that Techno does, but they’d have the benefit of surprise. 

Even so, they don’t have quite enough strength for Techno’s tactic to work well. They’d need the sort of strategy that Philza likes to use if Wilbur wants any chance of keeping his boys alive. 

_ Inevitably I’m going to turn back to my usual tricks. Actual strategy isn’t going to last long. _

But then again, maybe not a bad thing. Their biggest advantage is most likely surprise. Many of his tactics hinge on surprise and attacking his opponents when they don’t expect it. All he has to do is do that but with more thought, right?

A plan starts to spin itself together in Wilbur’s head. Go on the offense. Sneak into the main city. Choose a building and attack from there. Tubbo’s house would have been ideal… but of course it’s burned down. Fine. Tommy’s house will do. It’s closer to the center of the SMP anyways, and who knows what Tommy’s rigged the house with? It could play to their advantage. If his boys can be quick enough, they could pull off an attack. 

Wilbur fixes the potion stand he had kicked over, picking over his plan. It’s certainly risky. They could easily get trapped, and they’d be leaving L’manberg defenseless.  _ Unless I could get Niki… _

He dismisses the thought almost immediately. Wilbur can’t put Niki in that position. They’d just have to leave L’manberg with no one to protect it and hope for the best. 

_ We’ll have the element of surprise. That cocky bastard won’t see it coming from a kilometer away. We slip in right under his nose, and strike. _

_ Fuck. I really am like Schlatt. _

No matter. It works. The plan has a chance to succeed. 

Wilbur’s sitting down, satisfied with his plan, when the door flies open. Wilbur bolts to his feet- ready to fight- but instead of enemies, Tubbo falls through the door. Shock turns to concern as Wilbur notices blood spotting Tubbo’s green shirt. “Are you o- why is it that whenever someone comes into the van they’re always covered in blood?” Wilbur exclaims, rushing over. 

Tubbo clutches Wilbur’s arm, words tumbling out of his mouth. “Tommy- in the city- we didn’t listen to you- Wilbur, he’s- Tommy’s- we have to go, NOW-”

“Tubbo!” Wilbur feels himself shifting into his role as general. “Calm down, and spit it out!”

The younger boy’s voice is shrill and his eyes are wild with panic. “We have to help Tommy!”


	5. Hunted

_ About half an hour earlier _

“Wilbur, please-”

“It’s gone.” Wilbur’s face is set. “Trust me. There’s nothing there for you.” 

Tubbo shakes his head vehemently. “No, Wilbur, I have to see it, please, I just need to-”

“That is an order,” Wilbur snaps. “You’re not allowed out of L’manberg. Why don’t you go find Eret? He’ll keep you here.” With that, Wilbur walks into the back room of the camarvan, rubbing his temples in a tired manner. The door shuts behind him.

Anger flares in Tommy gut as Tubbo breathes out shakily. “This isn’t fair,” he mutters.

Tubbo glances at him. His eyes are red and his hair disheveled. He looks worse than Tommy’s ever seen him. “It’s… fine.” Tubbo’s voice is subdued. “Wilbur’s our general. What he says goes.” 

Tommy broods over this for a moment. “But that… that’s not…” He snorts and heads for the door. “C’mon Tubbo.”

“Are we going to go find Eret?”

“‘Course not.”

His friend hesitates before he can step out of the hot dog van. “Wait-”

“You really think I’m gonna listen to  _ Wilbur Soot?” _ Tommy scoffs. He splashes into the river running through L’manberg, not particularly caring about getting wet. After a moment of tentatively feeling around with his foot, Tommy locates the trapdoor and pulls it up.

Tubbo realizes what Tommy’s doing before Tommy can even say anything. “Oh God, not the-”

“The sewers,” Tommy finishes. Tubbo groans, and Tommy talks over him. “You said you wanted to see your house, Wilbur isn’t letting you see it, and I have a way to let you see it! C’mon, Tubbo!”

The two friends stare each other down. Finally Tubbo sighs and splashes into the river next to Tommy. “I do want to see my house. Just don’t let Wilbur know.” 

Tommy grins half-heartedly. “Of course.” 

They make their way through the sewers, mostly in silence. Tommy’s not really sure what to expect. Wilbur had checked out Tubbo’s house last night, and he’d come back pale as a ghost and smelling of smoke. He’d immediately forbidden Tubbo, Tommy, or Fundy from seeing it. So obviously it was something bad. Something Wilbur didn’t think they could handle. Something they probably shouldn’t be looking into.

_ But Tubbo was so… distraught about it. _

Tommy shakes off the thought as they approach the ladder leading up from the sewers. “Is this it?” Tubbo asks, looking up at the small square of light. 

“Yep,” Tommy says nervously. “I haven’t quite gotten it to your house, so this leads up to my house- my old house.” He starts going up the ladder, trusting Tubbo to follow. 

The ladder’s quite long. He’d built the sewers deep. If anyone besides the L’manbergians find it, they’re screwed, and Tommy knows this. However his previous caution doesn’t prevent him from grumpily mumbling about the absurd length of the ladder as he hauls himself up. Finally he pushes open the trapdoor with his elbow and clambers out of the small tunnel. “That is the worst fucking tunnel I’ve ever made. Why the fuck is it so long?”

Tubbo pulls himself out of the tunnel behind him. “This is why I didn’t want to take the sewers.”

“Oh, shut up, Tubbo. We’re here, aren’t we?”

There’s a moment of quiet as they look around the house. Then Tubbo walks straight out of the house and starts heading towards his own house. He’s moving quickly. Quicker than Tommy expected. He rushes after Tubbo, who’s already halfway down the path. “Tubbo- God, I can’t believe I’m about to say this- we have to be careful, we’re not in L’maberg’s territory, we’re fair game, you can’t just run-”

Undeterred, Tubbo keeps moving. His expression is determined, and he doesn’t pay attention to Tommy. Tommy feels a flash of worry. This isn’t like Tubbo. 

He’s about to try talking to Tubbo again when they round the corner and come in full view of Tubbo’s house. 

Or at least, the remains of Tubbo’s house.

“Ho-ly shit…” Tommy breathes. Wilbur wasn’t kidding. Tubbo’s house, his beautiful house, is nothing more than a pile of charred planks. Clouds of smoke still rise from it, and Tommy’s eyes already start to water. 

Tubbo stands completely still, framed by the ruins of his house. 

“I’ll fucking kill him,” whispers Tommy. “He can’t- this is just- I am going to  _ fucking kill him. _ ” 

“That won’t make things better,” Tubbo says hollowly. “Just… it’s fine, Tommy. There’s nothing we can do.”

Tommy’s about to shoot back a retort when something flashes at the corner of his eye. He pauses and looks around warily. “Tubbo, I think we should go.”

“Why?”

“I-” Tommy lowers his voice, still eyeing their surroundings. “I thought I saw netherite.”

Tubbo’s expression drops. “We should go.”

“Yep.”

By unspoken agreement, the pair turns and runs back towards Tommy’s house. “This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” Tommy pants as he runs.

“You should’ve listened to Wilbur!” is the gasped response. 

As much as he’d like to, Tommy doesn’t answer, instead yanking open the trapdoor in the floor and ushering Tubbo down the ladder. Once Tubbo’s safely down, Tommy climbs down as quickly as he can. “Okay, okay, okay, we should be good here.”

“Actually I don’t think we are.”

Tommy follows Tubbo’s gaze and dread pools in his stomach. A solid wall of obsidian blocks the sewers. Trapping them.

“I think they know we’re here,” Tubbo says, his face pale.

“Well- shit,” Tommy stammers. “Okay, so we go back up, and we run.”

“That seems to be our best option,” agrees Tubbo. 

They scramble back up the ladder. There’s no outward sign of Dream, but Tommy knows that the obsidian was deliberate.  _ He’s got us pinned. He doesn’t need to show himself for us to know that. _

_ We don’t even have weapons. _

Tommy whirls around to face Tubbo. “Tubbo, we should split up.”

“What?” Tubbo’s eyes go wide with shock. “Tommy, that’s a terrible idea.”

“People in movies do it all the time!” Tommy protests. “Look, we can’t fight, and I doubt we can outrun them. A split-up might surprise them, and it’ll be harder for them to surround us.” He chooses not to share the fact that Dream’ll probably come after him, not Tubbo. If Tubbo knows that his own chances are higher than Tommy’s, he won’t agree to the plan.

Tubbo sneaks a look out of the house. “Fine,” he says finally. “You go left, I’ll go right.”

“Stay safe,” Tommy says, offering a tight grin that Tubbo doesn’t return. “See you back at L’manberg.”

Without waiting for Tubbo, Tommy bolts out of the house and down the path in an attempt to draw the most attention to himself. No arrows come, but Tommy doesn’t miss the flashes of netherite moving through the trees. They’re onto him. He hears light footsteps on the path, and knows that Tubbo’s making his own dash.

No turning back.

Experimentally, Tommy tries veering off to the side, into the surrounding forest. Almost immediately the vague flickers of netherite sharpen. Tommy catches a glimpse of George, running through the trees.  _ Nope. _ He moves back to his original course. They’re definitely on him.

A sharp whistle cuts through the air. Tommy’s step falters. And that’s where the first thing goes wrong. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees George slow and fall back. At the same time, there’s a flash of lime green to his side, slightly ahead of him. Dream. Tommy turns sharply, instinct steering him away from the more dangerous man. A small voice in his head tells him he’s heading towards George, but he ignores it. He can’t run into Dream and risk a fight. 

_ I’m being herded. _

A sense of fear comes over Tommy as Dream continues to inch closer and he continues to move away. He’s being driven in an arc. Away from L’manberg. And if he’s being herded like this, then Tubbo is too. The Dream Team’s caught on to their plan, and they’re foiling it.  _ We’re going to get caught. _

His breath is starting to come in short bursts, but Tommy keeps running. They need a new plan and  _ fast. _ He can still get them out of this, right?

A green shape materializes out of the trees, and Tommy gasps in alarm. But the figure slams into him with no hesitation, and Tommy realizes it’s Tubbo. “Tommy-” his friend gasps out. “Punz and Sapnap- they’re farther behind-”

Words tumble out of Tommy’s mouth as he briefly seizes Tubbo’s shoulders. “Turn back and run, go right to L’manberg, slip Sapnap and Punz if they go after you, I’ll distract them, now GO!” 

He shoves Tubbo hard and the other boy takes off in a stumbling run, not fully processing Tommy’s plan and reacting on instinct to the order. Tommy stays put.  _ Wait for it… _

Simultaneously, Dream and George emerge from the treeline. Only a few more moments, and Sapnap and Punz burst through the trees where Tubbo had come from. “Shit!” Tommy yelps, scrambling to run again.  _ I may have waited too long. _

Shouts erupt from behind him. Tommy almost turns back, but doesn’t recognize Tubbo’s voice and keeps running. That’s all he has to do. Just run. Distract them from Tubbo, draw attention to himself, and get back to L’manberg. He can do this. Survive.

Loud laughter splits the air.  _ “COME HERE, TOMMY!”  _ Sapnap screams, and a new bolt of fear strikes Tommy. No, no, no, nonono. This is bad, this is very, very bad-

Tommy grabs a tree trunk and skids around it, wheeling to face the twinkling lights of the main city.  _ Lose them in the city.  _ He could pick up a weapon as well.  _ I just have to live long enough to do this. _

He hears more laughter and whoops behind him as he sprints through the city, past Eret’s tower, past the remains of Tubbo’s house, past a startled Badboyhalo who he shoves to the side. The tower Tommy had built outside of his house looms before him, and Tommy makes a split second bizarre decision. 

In what has to be the dumbest stunt he’s ever attempted, Tommy runs up the small pile of scaffolding beside the tower, and  _ leaps. _

For a brief moment he’s airborne, arms windmilling as he instinctively reaches for something, anything. Then Tommy slams into the hard cobblestone of the tower. He scrabbles wildly at the cobblestone, trying to find purchase as he slides down. Finally one hand catches on a jutting rock and he jolts to a stop, dangling by one hand on the side of the tower. Another moment of frantic flailing, and Tommy manages to get his other hand onto a rock. He hangs there for a moment, breathing heavily. 

Someone wolf-whistles, and Tommy looks down. Dream, George, Sapnap, and Punz are all at the bottom of the tower. All in full netherite and armed. Panic spurs Tommy on and he begins to climb, painstakingly hauling himself up the tower. 

By the time he pulls himself over the edge of the tower, his arms are shaking from the effort. Tommy rolls on to his back, letting his legs drop over the side, and sighs loudly. “God, I can’t believe I pulled that off,” he murmurs to himself. 

“You think you’re safe up there, Tommy?”

Tommy sits up instantly, the moment of relief gone. A glance over the edge reveals Dream. Halfway up the tower. Steadily making his way up, using two arrows like fucking Flynn Rider. Sapnap smirks up at Tommy from the base of the tower, already jamming an arrow into the tower side. Tommy scrambles back from the edge, feeling around for something, anything he can use. He comes up with a stone sword, and curses loudly. Shit. That won’t do. 

But there’s nothing else he can do at the moment. Dream hauls himself over the edge of the tower. He doesn’t look the least bit tired from the climb. His eyes rake over the tower and land on Tommy. Dream discards the arrows and unsheathes his sword. “Run out of places to go?”

Shaking, Tommy adjusts his grip on the stone sword. “Fuck you.”

Dream laughs and Sapnap pulls himself over the edge, followed quickly by Punz and George. Alarm bells ring in Tommy’s mind, and he slowly backs away from the Dream Team. Dream advances, matching his steps to Tommy’s. “Ohh, Tommyyyy,” he says softly, and Tommy shivers violently.

Sapnap scrapes his sword against the blackstone roof, grinning as sparks fly. “No more tricks? C’mon, at least make this a challenge!”

Tommy risks a glance over his shoulder.  _ That’s a long drop. _ “I’ll- I’ll get out.”  _ Stall. _ “Tubbo’s safe. He’ll get Wilbur, and they’ll fucking kill you.”

The Dream Team exchanges unconcerned looks. “Not before we kill you first,” Sapnap says, his nonchalant tone making it seem like he might as well have said he was going to the store.

He’s backed up to the very edge now, his heel precariously close to the drop. All four of his opponents are armed to the teeth. And Tommy… Tommy has a stone sword. 

Without warning, Dream lunges forward, closing the distance between them with frightening speed. Tommy barely manages to keep himself from leaping back over the edge. Dream swings his sword down at Tommy’s head, and Tommy thrusts his own sword upwards, just able to block the blow. A low chuckle comes from behind Dream’s smiling mask, and he suddenly pulls away. Before Tommy can react, Dream leans back and kicks Tommy in the chest.

A long, terrible second stretches out as Tommy tilts backward, instinctively stepping back into empty air. His eyes go wide with shock and fear.

And Tommy falls.


	6. If I Fail You

_ Tommy’s in danger. _

The words repeat themselves over and over in Tubbo’s head as he runs, dragging Wilbur behind him. He shouldn’t have left Tommy to fend for himself. Sure, Tommy had told him to go and Tubbo had reacted instinctively to the order. But he shouldn’t have left, shouldn’t have obeyed and ran. Tommy could get killed. Tubbo runs faster and Wilbur nearly trips, barely managing to keep up. 

“Tubbo, slow down a bit for fuck’s sake!” Wilbur pants. “I’m sure it’s not-”

“Wilbur, the entire Dream Team was on him, we have to help!” Tubbo ignores Wilbur’s request to slow down and continues running. 

_ Tommy’s in danger. _

_ This is my fault. _

_ I shouldn’t have left him. _

Suddenly Tubbo sees a flash of orange fur out of the corner of his eyes. Fundy. Tubbo doesn’t want to stop, he wants to keep running and find Tommy, but Wilbur stops, forcing Tubbo to stop as well. 

“Wilbur, is something wrong?” Fundy asks. He looks alarmed but not panicked, not as panicked as he should be with Tommy missing. Eret pops out from behind a tree, looking puzzled.

“Plans have been accelerated,” Wilbur says, grim-faced. “We’re going after Tommy.”

Tubbo fidgets anxiously, even as both Fundy and Eret somber and hurriedly gather up their supplies. They’re not moving fast enough. Tommy could be dead for all they know.

_ Tommy, an arrow pierced through his head. _

_ Tommy, with Sapnap’s axe stuck in his chest. _

_ Tommy, blood spilling from a gaping hole in his gut. _

_ Tommy, lying crumpled and broken at Dream’s feet. _

Finally Wilbur motions for Tubbo to go on, and Tubbo takes off. He sprints towards the clearing where he had last seen Tommy, not caring if his friends are keeping up or not.  _ I can’t let Tommy die. _

The clearing is empty. There’s no sign of Tommy or the Dream Team.

Undeterred, Tubbo veers to the side, towards the city. Fundy, hot on his heels, makes a quizzical noise. “Why-”

“Tommy would go to the city,” Tubbo gasps, not slowing down. He doesn't explain further. He doesn’t know  _ how _ to explain further. 

A scream rings through the air, and Tubbo’s head jerks towards the sound. He knows that voice.  _ Tommy. _ Tubbo bolts in the direction of Tommy’s voice with Wilbur right by his side, having apparently caught up. The scream leads them directly to Tommy’s house. On top of Tommy’s tower stand Dream, George, Sapnap, and Punz.

Tommy lies motionless on the ground, limbs splayed out and blood pooling underneath his head.

_ “TOMMY!”  _ Tubbo screams. Wilbur and Fundy let out twin cries of rage and Tubbo skids to a halt next to Tommy’s body. He slings the bow that Wilbur had forced him to take from his shoulder, and looses an arrow straight into George’s shoulder. 

George yelps in pain and stumbles back. Tubbo fires again, this time aiming for Dream’s head. To his shock, Dream somehow  _ catches _ the arrow and nocks it right into his own bow. Eret shoves Tubbo out of the way before the shot connects, accidentally knocking the smaller boy over. Tubbo doesn’t care though, and crawls over to Tommy.

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy-” Tubbo’s almost sobbing at this point. He seizes Tommy’s shoulders and shakes them gently, trying to wake him up. Tommy remains limp and unresponsive, eyes closed. Tubbo’s hands brush over something sticky and damp, and they come away red with blood. He carefully lifts Tommy’s head, and finds his hair matted with blood. “No, no, nononono-”

Wilbur lets out a shout, and a flaming arrow flies past Tubbo’s head. He flinches and curls over Tommy’s body in an attempt to shield him. Someone grabs Tubbo’s arm, and he whips around to see Eret. “We need to go!” Eret shouts.

Tubbo shakes his head vehemently. “I can’t leave Tommy-”

Eret lets out a sudden hiss of pain and whirls around, seizing Tubbo’s bow and firing an arrow up at the tower. When he turns back, he shoves a potion into Tubbo’s hand. “We can take Tommy, we just need to find cover! Give him the potion and GO!” 

Hands shaking, Tubbo pours the potion into Tommy’s mouth. He ignores Eret standing over him, and puts his full attention on Tommy.  _ Please, work, please work, don’t die, don’t die, don’t die… _

After the longest second of Tubbo’s life, Tommy’s crystal blue eyes blink open. Tubbo sobs, and wraps his arms tightly around his best friend. Tommy doesn’t hug him back, eyes still glazed over. “Hissing,” he slurs.

“Tommy, Tommy, it’s okay, you’ll be fine, I’ll make sure-”

Another flaming arrow tears past Tubbo, and Tommy grows more insistent. “Hissing, Tubbo, that-”

_ BANG. _

Tubbo’s eyes widen in realization.

_ BANGBANGBANGBANG. _

The explosions fling Tubbo away from Tommy. A pained cry escapes his mouth as he collides with the base of the tower and lies stunned.  _ What… where did that… _

_ What just happened? _

And more importantly:

_ Tommy. _

Tubbo rolls over with a moan. Tommy’s lying a couple meters away, looking equally dazed but moving. Before Tubbo can help his friend, Eret’s got him by the arms, pulling him up. “Into Tommy’s house!”

“But-”

“Wilbur’s got Tommy. Just get into the house!” 

With Eret’s prompting, Tubbo stumbles into the house. Fundy’s already there and Wilbur comes through the door shortly after, carrying Tommy over his shoulders. “Barricade the door!” he orders.

Eret starts pushing chests against the door. Wilbur drops Tommy unceremoniously on the floor. Tubbo starts towards Tommy, and a flaming arrow impales the ground between his feet. 

He jumps back with a cry of shock, stamping wildly at the fire licking around his ankles. Wilbur moves efficiently, swiftly dropping his jacket over the flames and quenching them. Fundy glances out the window. “Where did that come-”

Wilbur yanks him back just as two more arrows soar through the window. “What the fuck are you thinking?” he berates the fox. “You could’ve- Eret, for fuck’s sake, get something over the windows!”

The other man obliges, fixing a slab of wood over the window. Wilbur throws him a thankful look, and Eret nods tightly in return. On the ground Tommy stirs, rubbing his head with a wince. Tubbo crouches at his side, relieved to see that there’s no fresh blood. “Tommy, I- oh Tommy, don’t scare me like that!”

Tommy pushes himself into a sitting position, groaning softly. “Ohhhh fuck, everything hurts.”

Someone outside shouts, and Wilbur whips around, firing through the narrow slit left by the slab. Another loud explosion rings through the air, and all five boys flinch in anticipation. Tommy pushes Tubbo away impatiently and stands up unsteadily. “What the fuck happened?” he asks, swaying on his feet and bracing himself against Tubbo.

“One minute I’m in the camarvan sche-” Wilbur cuts himself off. “ _ Planning _ , and the next, Tubbo’s dragging me through the woods screaming that you need help. I think it should be  _ you _ telling _ us _ what happened.”

Both Tommy and Tubbo freeze in place and exchange sheepish looks. A smaller explosion is audible, and Tommy takes the opportunity to try and rush through an explanation. “Well you weren’t letting Tubbo see his house and Tubbo was getting upset and it just wasn’t fair you see so we tried sneaking out to see it but Dream caught us and blocked of the sewers so we split up and I pulled off a fucking awesome stunt by the way but I fell and…” Tommy winces and shuts up. 

Fundy sucks in a long breath through his teeth. 

Wilbur’s face is fixed in a carefully neutral expression. “Sewers.”

“Y-Yeah…”

“You built a fucking sewer system and used it to sneak into the city against my  _ direct _ orders, all in order to see Tubbo’s house, something that I  _ explicitly warned you _ not to do.”

Tommy has the grace to look ashamed. Tubbo tries to discreetly back away, and Wilbur turns his glare on him. “And you agreed to go along with this?”

“I had to see it.” Tubbo’s voice is small. He doesn’t like being yelled at, especially by Wilbur.

He feels Eret’s hand, large and warm and comforting on his shoulder. Wilbur closes his eyes for a long moment. Finally he murmurs, “I thought you were better than that, Tubbo.”

Tubbo flinches like he’s been struck. Eret’s hand tightens on his shoulder, and Tommy makes an angry noise. There’s a terrible sinking feeling in Tubbo’s gut. 

_ I disappointed Wilbur. _

“I’m sorry, Wilbur,” he says meekly, and Wilbur’s glare relaxes. The general hesitates for a moment, then turns and fires another arrow out of the window. Tubbo sees that he only has two arrows left.

With Wilbur’s anger apparently diffused, Fundy speaks up. “Wait you said the sewers, right? We can escape through them-”

“Blocked,” Tubbo and Tommy say in unison. 

“But can’t we-”

“He used obsidian,” Eret guesses in a flat tone.

Wilbur fits another arrow into his bow. “Besides, we wouldn’t take the fucking sewers like we’re common rats, L’manberg is noble and-”

There’s a loud  _ CRACK  _ and the bow snaps clean in two. 

All five boys stare at the two splintered pieces of wood in Wilbur’s hands in shock.

Tommy summarizes what they’re all thinking. “Oh fuck.”

A sharp whistle pierces the air. Tubbo’s head jerks up; the whistle is eerily familiar.  _ Earlier. When Tommy and I were being chased. _ The Dream Team had used whistles to communicate, to coordinate their actions. To herd Tommy and Tubbo. Tubbo glances at Tommy, and sees that he has a similar expression.  _ He’s come to the same conclusion. _

Nerves flare through Tubbo.  _ We need to get out of here. _ Before he can voice his thoughts, Eret lets out a sigh. “They’re retreating,” the older man says. Tubbo casts him a surprised look, but Eret doesn’t seem to notice.

“How do you know?” Tommy asks. He looks doubtful, and Tubbo mirrors his expression. 

“I’ve been watching,” Eret says vaguely. “Their patterns aren’t exactly hard to figure out.”

Wilbur looks out of the window. “They’re actually retreating,” he confirms. “Why would they…”

“There’s gotta be some other motive,” Fundy thinks out loud. “He wouldn’t just retreat at this moment. Our one good bow- our one weapon- is broken, and we’re trapped in Tommy’s house. Sure Tubbo landed a hit on George, and I’m pretty sure Wilbur hit Punz at one point, but we definitely didn’t cause enough damage to call for a retreat. By all means they should be closing in.” The fox realizes that everyone is staring at him and shuffles awkwardly in place. “It’s just… I dunno, that just… that seems like the most likely reasoning…”

“You’re right,” Wilbur says slowly. “We don’t have anything to use. No weapons, no supplies… they have no reason to retreat.”

Silence stretches out over the L’manbergians.  _ We were essentially trapped here. He could’ve slaughtered us and we wouldn’t be able to fight back, what with Wilbur’s bow being broken. _

_ Why did he retreat? _

Tubbo realizes that Eret’s talking. “I…” He hesitates for a split second, then continues. “I have something. For us to use.”

The other four boys look at him, expressions varying from hope to skepticism. Tubbo watches Wilbur out of the corner of his eye, looking for his guidance. Their leader’s face is unreadable. “What is it?” Wilbur asks simply.

Eret cracks a hesitant grin. “Follow me.”


	7. Ace Up His Sleeve

Fundy immediately bounces up, as does Tubbo. Tommy leaps up a split second later, Eret’s grin contagious. Standing up slowly, Wilbur nods at Eret. He nods back, and strides out of their makeshift base. 

Excitement rushes through Tommy as he follows Eret. His fall and the TNT attack had shaken his confidence, but the combined win of the Dream Team’s retreat and whatever Eret had prepared reassures him. Whatever Dream’s doing, L’manberg will strike back. They can win.

He notices Wilbur trailing behind. The general’s glancing about, taking in his surroundings. He looks wary, and his head moves towards every unexpected sound. Tommy falls back to join him. “Something wrong?”

Wilbur sighs. “For one thing, they retreated for no reason. For another, we’re too exposed. There isn’t a decent place for us to take cover, and it would be all too easy for them to get the upper hand on us.” He gestures up as the shadow of Ponk’s tower falls over them. “Literally.”

This puts a damper on Tommy’s good mood. “I didn’t think of that. Do you really think we’ll be attacked?”

“I don’t know,” Wilbur replies. “Stay alert and be ready to run or fight if anything happens.” He quickens his pace, gaining on the rest of the group.

Tommy’s hand drifts to the hilt of his sword. Hopefully he won’t have to use it.

Eret approaches a nondescript dirt hill. “This way, gentlemen,” he says, and breaks through the dirt to reveal a long tunnel descending into the earth. 

“What-” Wilbur starts to say, but Eret is already ducking into the tunnel. Tommy gives a short laugh and enters the tunnel after Fundy, the other boy’s tail brushing against his leg. 

“When did you make this?” Tubbo asks breathlessly. 

“Not long ago.” Eret doesn’t look back. They trek down the tunnel for several minutes in silence before Eret stops walking. “Here it is. The Final Control Room.”

Fundy lets out a delighted cry as Eret steps back, and Tommy pushes impatiently past Fundy. His jaw drops in delight, and he hears similar reactions from Tubbo and Wilbur. Five chests sit along the walls of the small room, each one marked with one of their names. 

Tommy rushes to his chest, eagerly throwing open the lid. His brow furrows in confusion. Next to him, Wilbur also bears a look of confusion. “There’s nothing in the chests,” Wilbur begins to say.

As he turns back to Eret, Tommy registers several things at once. Tubbo and Fundy are in similar states of perplexity. There’s a button in the middle of the room that had gone undetected at first. Eret’s hand is lifting from the button as he starts to back towards the entrance. There’s the shifting, clicking sound of pistons locking into place.

And the Dream Team emerges from the walls.

Blind instinct takes over. Tommy hears a cry of panic but can’t identify it’s owner over the thrumming of his own heart. His body leaps into action and he hurls himself at one of the niches the Dream Team had emerged from. He realizes too late that it’s blocked. His fingers claw at the dirt in a frantic attempt to break through and he feels the sharp sting as a sword slices into his side. Someone screams. He hears Wilbur bellow “Eret, GO!” and the sharp crack of bone on bone before something’s got a hold of his collar and flings him back into the Final Control Room. He hits the ground hard and hears Wilbur thud to the ground almost immediately after. Tommy’s head jerks up, wide-eyed and gasping to see Dream standing over him, sword dripping with blood and pointed at his throat.

“Hey, Tommy,” Dream says and Tommy sees the smirk curling under his mask.

Beside him Wilbur starts to push himself up. He’s met with a firm kick in the ribs from Punz and rolls onto his back, wheezing from the force of the kick. Tommy catches a glimpse of the blood streaming from Wilbur’s nose before Dream’s sword at his throat distracts him.

For a moment the room is completely silent except for the laboured breathing of the L’manbergians. Then Tubbo’s voice, hushed and barely audible breaks the silence. “E-Eret?”

Eret looks at his knuckles, split and bleeding. When he looks up, his face carefully shows no emotion. “Down with the revolution, boys.” He surveys the room. “It was never meant to be.”

Sapnap lets out a loud whoop. Tommy forces himself to look away from Dream’s sword, and tries to focus on Tubbo. He’s curled in a corner with Sapnap standing over him. Bleeding from a cut on his arm and one ankle twisted awkwardly underneath him, Tubbo’s gaze is slightly unfocused but his head is turned towards Eret. “Eret- Eret, I- I thought-”

Eret’s eyes flicker to Tubbo. A flash of remorse? “Sorry, kid. It had to be done.”

“You- you-” Fundy stammers and Wilbur says softly, “A traitor.” His voice is thick, blood still steadily flowing from his nose.

“You fucked up," Tommy whispers. Dream makes a small noise and places one heavy foot on Tommy’s chest. Pain explodes through the cut in his side but at this point he barely notices.

“I did what I needed to do to survive,” is the cold reply.

Tommy loses it. 

He twists violently under Dream, throwing him off and prompting a cry of alarm from George. All thoughts of reason abandoned, he lunges at Eret. “YOU FUCKING BASTARD WE TRUSTED YOU AND YOU BETRAY US-”

Eret stumbles back. Tommy’s dimly aware of Sapnap seizing him and trying to hold him back. He doesn’t care. All he wants is to kill Eret. “YOU BASTARD YOU ABSOLUTE FUCKING BASTARD I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU TRAITOR-”

Sapnap shouts and throws him back sharply. Tommy’s head cracks against the hard blackstone floor, and the world splinters into black.

Wilbur’s in shock.

He’s managed to get himself into a less vulnerable position, propped up on his elbows, but he’s very clearly not a threat. He suspects his nose is broken; the force of Eret’s punch had spun him around and pain throbs through it in consistent waves. Every breath he takes feels like daggers stabbing his lungs, hinting at something bad with his ribcage.

He is dimly aware of Tommy’s violent screams as he thrashes against Sapnap. A small voice inside his head says that he should tell Tommy to stop, but before he can act on it, Sapnap throws Tommy back. His brother’s head hits the ground with a sickening crack, and Tommy goes limp. Tubbo cries out in fear, and Wilbur lets out a sharp gasp and lurches forward instinctively. Cold metal slides across his throat and he stops. Punz shakes his head, grinning as Wilbur pushes himself away from the sword.

“You didn’t kill him, right?” Dream asks Sapnap and a bolt of terror runs through Wilbur.

Sapnap nudges Tommy with his foot. “Nah. Just unconscious.”

Wilbur sinks back in relief. Dream makes a strange little half-laugh. “Good. It would be a shame if he didn’t get to see his friends die.”

Instantly the feeling of terror is back. His head snaps up and he jolts to his feet, forgetting about Punz’s sword. The agony in his ribs almost sends him back down, but he grits his teeth and forces himself to stay upright. “You will not touch these boys,” Wilbur says, his voice a low, feral snarl. 

Dream tilts his head, and Wilbur feels Punz press his sword against his spine. He doesn’t care. Better him than Tommy or either of the other boys. Glaring at Dream he tries to look as threatening as possible despite the blood spilling from his nose, attempting to draw attention away from Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy. 

It works. Dream steps over Tommy and rests the tip of his sword under Wilbur’s chin. “You are not in a position to bargain.” 

“Then kill me.” The words tumble out of Wilbur’s mouth unbidden. “Do whatever you want with me, just let Fundy, Tommy, and Tubbo go.” 

He hears a barely audible whimper from Fundy and risks a side glance at him. The fox is braced against a wall, a long slash in his L’manberg uniform. His ears are pinned back against his head and his pupils have shrank to pinpricks. Wilbur’s resolve hardens. He can’t let anything else happen to his son. 

Dream pushes the sword closer and Wilbur feels a trickle of blood run down his throat. Pain flares in his ribs as he takes a deep breath and steadies himself, preparing for the worst when George speaks up. “What do you think, Eret?” he says, quiet but firm. Dream gives him a surprised look. “You’re new. You’ve just turned traitor against L’manberg. I think we need to make sure you’re on our side.”

The tension in the room is almost unbearable. Eret is motionless, his expression unreadable. Wilbur barely dares to breath. 

“Why bother?” Eret says finally. “Just throw them back in their so-called country. We’ve won, that much is clear. They aren’t worth the trouble. And besides, what better a punishment than letting them live knowing their rebellion failed?”

Silence stretches out. Then Dream says, “I like the way you think, Eret.” Eret visibly relaxes. Dream lowers his sword and looks Wilbur dead in the eyes. “Consider this a warning. You have until tomorrow at dawn to surrender. For now, go back to L’man-child-berg. Sapnap will escort you.” Sapnap groans and Dream gives him a hard look. “He will not attack you, or stay in L’manberg long. His job is simply to make sure you go back to L’manberg, and he  _ knows this _ and knows that if he does anything besides this there will be  _ dire consequences. _ ” 

Sapnap rolls his eyes and steps back, twirling his axe. Dream sheaths his sword and gestures for George and Punz to do the same. As soon as Punz’s sword tip leaves his spine, Wilbur kneels next to Tommy. He’s still unconscious, and Wilbur sees blood pooling from a long slice in his side. Wilbur hisses and yanks off his jacket, wrapping it tightly around the younger boy’s side to stem the bleeding.

Suddenly he’s aware of Eret by his side. “I would suggest you surrender while you still can,” he murmurs. “Look at Tommy. Look at Tubbo, at Fundy. You can’t win this fight  _ and _ keep them all alive.”

Wilbur stays silent and instead slowly, deliberately lifts his hand to his face. He swipes his hand across his nose, ignoring the blinding flash of pain, and looks at the blood smeared across his knuckles. Then he props Tommy up and slings the smaller boy across his shoulders. He refuses to acknowledge Eret.

Eret’s eyes flash. “I saved your life. Why don’t you save theirs?”

“The better question, Eret,” Wilbur says, standing up and swaying slightly under Tommy’s weight, “is why would I listen to a traitor?” 

Eret jerks back like he’s been slapped. Wilbur looks straight past Eret, and goes to help his boys.


	8. Eye Of The Hurricane

Tubbo feels bad for having to lean on Fundy while he walks, especially after seeing the blood seeping from the cut on Fundy’s chest. But even so, he recognizes that he isn’t in any shape to walk on his own. Pain shoots through his ankle with every step, and judging by the splitting headache and the way everything has a blurry quality to it, he has a concussion. The deep cut on his forearm stopped hurting, but he’s still very aware of it. Tubbo glances at Sapnap trailing behind them, sees his blood on Sapnap’s axe blade, and shudders. 

Ahead of him Wilbur stumbles with a grunt. Tommy’s limp body slides from his shoulders, and Tubbo jolts forward in an attempt to catch his friend, momentarily forgetting his ankle. He succeeds in catching Tommy, and almost immediately collapses with a yelp of pain as his ankle gives out under him. He hears Sapnap laugh as he clutches his ankle. 

Wilbur crouches over him and detangles Tommy from Tubbo. He runs his hands lightly over Tubbo’s ankle, which has swollen to about the size of a grapefruit, and Tubbo flinches. Wilbur pulls back, and suddenly Tubbo is reminded of Eret.

_ Eret yanks the arrow out and Tubbo gasps in pain. Eret brushes the wound, his hand coming away red with blood. “It’s not too deep,” he reassures Tubbo. “You’ll be fine.”  _

Tubbo snaps out of the memory and tears spring to his eyes. He had trusted Eret. Eret was always so supportive of him, so willing to help wherever he could. But there had been no mistaking that room. Eret betrayed L’manberg. He’s a traitor. And yet a small part of Tubbo’s mind still thinks that he’ll be waiting for them at the hot dog van.

A shadow falls over him, and Tubbo looks up to see Sapnap. “Get up,” the older boy snaps. “The faster we get to Man-child-berg, the faster I can leave this dump.”

Wilbur growls softly but Sapnap doesn’t back off, instead idly sweeping his axe off his shoulder and swinging it into a young sapling. The netherite slices effortlessly through the wood. The threat is clear.

Breathing shakily, Tubbo accepts Fundy’s outstretched arm and painfully pulls himself up. He catches Wilbur’s worried glance, and tries for a weak grin. Evidently it turns out to be more of a grimace, because Wilbur looks more worried than ever. 

They travel the rest of the way in silence, occasionally punctured by a pained grunt or gasp. Tubbo’s ankle hurts more and more with every awkward hobble, and he’s starting to get lightheaded. The earth sways under his feet and he clutches Fundy’s uniform, trying to stay upright. Fundy stumbles slightly, but shifts his weight to accommodate Tubbo. 

After what feels like an eternity, the walls of L’manberg loom before them. Upon seeing the walls, Sapnap promptly turns and leaves without saying a word. 

The four boys make their way to the camarvan. Almost as soon as he enters the camarvan, Tubbo collapses against Fundy, flashes of pain shooting up his leg. Fundy makes a concerned noise and starts to lead him to the one bed in the van, but Tubbo stops him. “No,” he gasps out. “Give it to Tommy.”

Wilbur hesitates, but obliges. Tubbo slides down against the wall, patches of lily green and white splotching his vision. He’s barely aware of Wilbur crouching over him, hands hovering over his ankle. “Tubbo,” Wilbur’s saying, and Tubbo blinks hazily, trying to focus on the older boy.

“Tubbo, we can fix your ankle,” Wilbur murmurs. “I have to set it first through. It’ll be quick, but it’ll hurt. Fundy will help, and then you can have a healing potion. Do you understand?”

Tubbo somehow manages to bob his head up and down. Wilbur motions Fundy over, and the fox grabs a pink healing potion. Wilbur’s hands rest on Tubbo’s ankle. “I’ll count to three and I’ll push the bone back into place. Wait a beat after I do, Fundy, then let him have the healing potion,” Wilbur instructs. “One, two,  _ three _ .”

Terrible, blinding agony explodes through Tubbo and he howls in pain. Wilbur sits back and Fundy rushes forward, forcing the potion into Tubbo’s mouth. Instantly the pain starts to subside, and he takes several deep, wobbly breaths. He glances at his ankle, and watches as the swelling goes down before his eyes. Taking the potion from Fundy, he tilts his head back and drinks, letting the potion do its work. As he watches, the cut on his arm begins to knit itself together. Tubbo lets out a sigh of relief and relaxes, relishing the newfound lack of a concussion.

“It’s not fully healed yet,” Wilbur says, running his bloodied hands through his hair. “Don’t rely on it too much, don’t put too much weight on it, and don’t jump off of anything until it’s fully healed.” He turns to Fundy and studies the long slice on his chest. “Fundy. I’ll get you a potion.”

Fundy stops Wilbur. “Will, your nose,” he says, and for the first time Tubbo catches a glimpse of the jagged line of Wilbur’s nose and the blood steadily streaming from it. 

Wilbur shakes his head. “It’s nothing,” he insists, his voice hard. “Fundy, get a potion. I’ll take care of Tommy.”

Fundy relents and picks up a healing potion. Tubbo’s eyes fall on Tommy and he flinches. He’s still unconscious, head lolling sideways and blood staining the jacket wrapped around his side. Honestly part of Tubbo wishes he’ll stay unconscious. Now that he’s gotten the rage out, the sadness and self-blame will set in. Tommy hides it the best he can, but Tubbo’s been his friend long enough to recognize Tommy’s habits. Eret’s betrayal will crush him.

Beside him Wilbur coughs. It’s small, and he tries to stifle it but he’s not quick enough to conceal the red that drips from his mouth as he coughs. And neither Tubbo nor Fundy miss the way Wilbur winces and touches his side. 

“You can’t take care of Tommy until you take care of yourself,” Fundy says. Wilbur shoots him a glare that only serves to show more of the blood that now stains most of the lower half of his face. “Tubbo can handle Tommy, but you need potions too.”

Reluctantly Wilbur sits down and allows Fundy to begin cleaning blood off his face. Tubbo gets a potion and sits down on the edge of the bed where Tommy lies, propping him up. He doesn’t want to give Tommy too much, just enough to stop him from bleeding out. It’s always better to have control over drinking a potion; you don’t want to overstep your limits. Tubbo peels away the jacket wrapped around Tommy’s side and examines the wound. It missed any vital organs, but it’s deeper than Tubbo would have liked. He tilts Tommy’s head back and tips the potion into his friend’s mouth, careful not to overdo it. 

He’s watching the color slowly return to Tommy’s face when he hears Wilbur exclaim, “What the fuck are you doing?” 

Tubbo turns around to see Fundy standing in front of Wilbur, arms crossed. “I saw Punz kick you. I need to see the damage. Take off your shirt.”

“I think the fuck not,” Wilbur starts to say, but he’s broken off by another blood splattered cough, this one more violent than the last one. 

“Take off your shirt,” Fundy repeats stubbornly.

Wilbur stares at the blood for a moment. He relents, pulling off his shirt, and Tubbo gasps. A patch of bruises is blooming over most of Wilbur’s chest. The center is such a dark purple it’s almost black, and the rest of the bruises are a nasty mix of blue and green. Suddenly the coughing and the blood makes sense; it’s a miracle that Wilbur’s been able to remain standing for as long as he has. 

“Why didn’t you say something?” Fundy asks, shock evident in his voice. 

“I am not the priority here,” Wilbur hisses. “You shouldn’t have to worry about me, it’s my job to look after you.” He downs a healing potion like it’s a shot and leans his head back dejectedly. “If it were up to me, none of you would have gotten hurt just now.”

Silence falls over the group. Of course. They all blame themselves for Eret’s betrayal. 

Tommy stirs next to Tubbo and blinks blearily. “Wa’s goin’ on?” he slurs, stretching and wincing as the movement pulls at his wound. Tubbo shakes his head mutely and hands him the rest of the healing potion. There’s another moment of silence while Tommy drinks. Then finally he drops the empty bottle and sighs. “I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.”

Tubbo lets out a strange sort of half-laugh. Tommy looks around the van and his face falls. “Oh,” Tommy says quietly. Then his eyes fall on Wilbur and he stifles a laugh. “Wilbur, you- you don’t have, you know, a shirt.”

Fundy’s lips curl up in a smile. Tubbo takes one look at Tommy’s face and loses it, while Tommy shakes silently. Wilbur looks unamused. “We have  _ nothing _ ,” he says sharply. 

The giggling cuts off abruptly. Wilbur continues. “We’re worse off than we were before. At least before we outnumbered them. We had supplies. And now? We have nothing. Nothing. We have what, two more healing potions? Some iron swords?” He slams his head back against the wall. “Eret knows everything. He knows our plans. He knows our strategies. He knows our strengths, our weaknesses. He built the walls, who knows what he’s done to them? We’ve been outplayed. Dream’ll know everything about us.” Wilbur hesitates, then sighs deeply. “I can’t force you to continue to fight. If any of you want to leave, to walk out right now and put this all behind us, you may. I won’t stop you.”

Silence stretches out in the hot dog van. Tubbo barely breathes, his mind whirling. He doesn’t really want to leave, but Wilbur has a point. It’s pretty much hopeless. Eret’s been with them for a long time, and he knows everything there is to know about L’manberg. And yet, Tubbo wants to stay. Even if it is a suicide mission…

Tommy stands up, grimacing as moves. Tubbo freezes. Not Tommy. If Tommy decides to leave, then what will he do? Follow his best friend or his leader? 

“We’re hopelessly outmatched,” Tommy says slowly. Tubbo’s heart sinks, but when he looks up Tommy is smiling. “Fuck yeah I’m gonna continue to fight.”

Tubbo’s face breaks into a wide grin. “If Tommy stays, I do too.” 

All three of them look at Fundy. The fox’s ears are pricked up in excitement. “I might know a hidden passage into Eret’s base that leads to his supply room,” Fundy suggests, eyes gleaming. “I could try to…  _ collect _ some materials for us.”

Tommy lets out a delighted laugh, and Wilbur cracks a smile. “I can’t guarantee our victory or your safety,” he warns. “But if you truly want to stay and fight, I’m certainly not going to discourage you.” He stands up and claps his hands together decisively. “We’ll need supplies. Tommy, Tubbo, you two go mining. Strip mine if you have to, and stay within L’manberg’s walls. I’ll call in a few… favors. And Fundy?” Wilbur’s eyes flash. “See if you can make use of that hidden passage.”

Fundy’s mouth curls into a wicked smile. “Oh, I won’t disappoint you, Wilbur.”

Wilbur’s grin widens. “Good luck, men,” he says. He strides towards the door, throws it open, and freezes in place.

Tommy rushes forward and immediately reels back, not bothering to hide his laughter. Tubbo peeks over Wilbur’s shoulder and stifles a laugh of his own. Standing in front of the hot dog van’s entrance is Niki. Her face is bright red, and her eyes are fixed on Wilbur’s chest.

“Niki,” is all Wilbur says. He looks absolutely stupefied. 

Niki lets out a small cough. “You- you’re-” She pauses and clears her throat. “Will, your, um, chest.”

Wilbur looks down at his chest and seems to realize for the first time that he still hasn’t put his shirt back on. His face goes redder than Tommy’s shirt and he blinks rapidly. “Uh-”

Tubbo notices the bottles clutched in Niki’s arms. “Niki, do you, uh…”

Niki starts, then stammers, “Um- yes. Yes, I have- I made these for you.” She thrusts the potions into Wilbur’s hands and scampers away.

“Wilachu,” Tommy gasps out through his wheezing. Wilbur’s face turns even redder and he whips around with a glare. Tommy laughs harder, and Fundy begins laughing as well. A snort escapes Tubbo, and Tommy collapses on the floor, practically crying. Storming into the camarvan, Wilbur snatches his jacket from the floor and yanks it on, then upon seeing Tommy’s blood still staining it curses and throws it into the corner. Finally he retrieves his shirt and pulls it over his head. 

“Fuck you all,” he announces and walks out of the van, leaving the other three boys laughing on the floor. 


	9. The Story Of Tonight

The night is relatively low key. By the time morning comes, they have a pretty good haul. Wilbur counts four iron swords, an iron axe, and a bow. It won’t be enough if it really comes down to it. But it will suffice. There’s no armor; that’s fine. They don’t do armor in L’manberg.

Wilbur lets out a long sigh and pushes his hair out of his eyes. It doesn’t matter how many supplies they have. They could get full enchanted netherite with netherite tools and god apples, and it still wouldn’t be enough. 

He hears a loud snore from the back room of the van and pokes his head through the door. Tommy, Fundy, and Tubbo are sleeping in a tangle of arms and legs, barely discernible from each other. It’s surprising that Tommy’s able to snore like that, what with both Fundy and Tubbo on top of him. Wilbur smiles softly and closes the door.

How is he going to lead these boys into battle? They’re young, inexperienced. All three certainly fight with passion, but they don’t know strategy. If he loses any of them…

Eret’s white eyes flash in his mind. At least with Eret Wilbur had someone else he could count on to keep the younger boys safe. Eret was older, more responsible, more reasonable. But now it falls squarely on Wilbur’s shoulders to keep his boys safe. 

He goes over the mental list of enemies. George is a trained assassin. Punz is wicked smart, not to mention well supplied. Sapnap is a maniac. Dream lets himself be hunted for fun. And of course, Eret. Who knows every single plan and weakness L’manberg has. It’s futile. 

_ Don’t underestimate your boys. _

Wilbur frowns. The voice in his head sounds suspiciously like Philza. “We can’t win,” he says aloud.

_ The Dream Team aren’t the only ones with strengths. _

“They got a hell lot more than we do.”

_ Tubbo’s versatility. Fundy’s cleverness. Tommy’s zeal.  _ The voice hesitates for a moment.  _ Your wisdom. _

“Don’t,” Wilbur says sharply.

“Don’t what?”

Wilbur jumps, startled by the sound of a voice outside of his head. He turns around to see Tommy, blinking groggily in the doorway with his hair sticking up in the back. Wilbur relaxes. “It’s nothing.”

Tommy opens his mouth in a wide yawn. “It’s time? Already?”

“Yes,” Wilbur says simply, looking at the rising sun. 

The two of them stand in silence for a few minutes, watching the sun rise. Then finally Tommy asks, “Wilbur… what’s the plan? Are we going to continue to fight or surrender or…”

“I…”

Philza’s voice echoes through his mind.  _ Don’t underestimate your boys. _

“I am not meeting Dream with the intentions of surrendering,” Wilbur says slowly. “I want you, Tubbo, and Fundy to come with me in case things go south. I don’t know what his reaction will be. “

Tommy nods his understanding. He doesn’t look scared or worried. He just looks determined. 

_ Alright, Philza, _ Wilbur thinks.  _ Alright, Dad. Perhaps you were right. _

_ Maybe we do stand a chance. _

The early morning passes in a blur. Both Tubbo and Fundy wake up. Everyone equips themselves; Wilbur lets Fundy take the bow and makes Tubbo take the axe. He needs it. Wilbur also forces all three boys to train, making each one one vs one him. He knows it’s not exactly fair, but he needs to see them fight. He needs to see their strategies. As he fights, he begins to see evidence of the strengths Philza pointed out. Tommy refused to stop until he finally knocked Wilbur’s sword out of his hand, going at it for a solid twenty minutes and still having energy by the end. Tubbo adapted to anything Wilbur threw at him and made it work in his favor, be it a change in tactics, weapons, or terrain. Fundy was shockingly quick, eventually making Wilbur call quits due to the nagging feeling that he was being toyed with. When Wilbur lets them stop, he feels wholly satisfied with their capabilities. 

And now it’s time.

Wilbur takes a deep, shaky breath and toys with the hilt of his sword as he waits at the entrance to L’manberg. This is it. The day could either end well, or in horrible, horrible failure. Dream will only accept a surrender. A battle will most likely ensue. A fight could go either way, and both sides have a fair chance of winning. Anything could happen.

He spots four figures in the distance, growing clearer with every step. Punz. George. Sapnap. And Dream. Wilbur squares his shoulders as they approach. No backing out now.

“Dream,” Wilbur greets him, dipping his head respectfully.

“Wilbur,” Dream replies. He doesn’t incline his head in return. “Have you made your decision yet?”

Wilbur glances back at Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy standing behind him. “We have.”

“And?”

A strange sense of calm washes over Wilbur. It all rests on him. “Independence,” he begins. “Or death. If we get no revolution, then we want  _ nothing _ . We would rather die than give into you and join your SMP.”

Dream stands eerily still. “If you do this, there will be consequences.” He motions with his hand and George steps forward. He holds out a stick of TNT and Wilbur raises his eyebrows. 

“You can blow up one piece of TNT inside our door all you want,” Wilbur says, confidence growing. “It means nothing to us.” 

There’s a collective shift in the mood. Wilbur can feel the excited tension radiating off of his opponents. There’s a similar tension surrounding the L’manbergians as well. They’re gearing up to fight. 

“Alright,” Dream says, surprisingly calm. There’s no hint of emotion in his voice, and his mask makes his expression unreadable. “George?”

George obliges, lighting the end of the TNT and tossing it at Wilbur’s feet before hastily backing away. Wilbur takes a few steps back, closer to the boys. “Don’t let this hurt you,” he says quietly to them. They shouldn’t let a single stick of TNT cause any damage. 

The TNT starts making an ominous hissing noise. The Dream Team scrambles backward, Dream lifting up his shield. Punz’s eyes flash in alarm and he backs up so fast he nearly trips. Wilbur suppresses a grin. The great Dream Team, scared of a piece of TNT.

_ BANG. _

The TNT explodes. Wilbur flinches, but it doesn’t harm him. Of course. A single piece of TNT can’t do anything. So why does he hear more hissing?

Then it clicks.

The confidence. The excitement mixed with nerves. The shield. The urgency to leave. The single piece of TNT, thrown so carefully into L’manberg’s walls.

That piece wasn’t meant to hurt them.

Wilbur flings himself in front of the boys, smacking Fundy square in the chest. “GET BACK!”

And then the ground explodes underneath him. 

Wilbur’s thrown back with the force of the explosion. For a long, terrible moment he’s airborne. Then he slams into the ground, rolling until his back collides with something solid and unmoving. His eyes are open, but he can only see the vaguest shapes. All he can do is lie there, stunned as the ground shakes with explosions. 

Someone’s shaking his shoulder. Wilbur turns his head dazedly, unable to focus on whoever’s kneeling over him. Bright blonde hair stands out. Tommy. Why’s Tommy shaking him? 

Another explosion racks the earth. Tommy switches to pulling on Wilbur’s arm. Wilbur realizes what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to help Wilbur up. Pleased with himself for figuring it out, Wilbur clings on to Tommy’s shirt and makes a weak attempt to stand. The ground tilts under his feet and he sways. He can’t hear anything. Just a painful ringing in his ears.

Tommy moves and Wilbur nearly falls over. Someone else is at his other side and he feels fur brush his arm. The world is spinning, and he thinks that he’s being pulled somewhere. His limbs feel like leaden weights. 

Suddenly he’s in water. Wilbur chokes, water filling his mouth. Just as quickly as it starts, it’s over. Tommy and Fundy (he thinks) are moving, hurrying him down some sort of tunnel. Wilbur tries to walk, to move his feet, but gives up and lets them drag him. The ringing in his ears is getting worse every second.

The pace slows down. Wilbur raises his head, confused, and he’s lowered into what he thinks is a chair. The chair is nice, stable, and Wilbur clutches it like a lifeline. Something bumps against his lips, and he realizes it’s the opening of a bottle. A potion. He doesn’t resist, and lets the potion run down his throat. 

He sits still for a moment, letting the potion do its work. Gradually the ringing in his ears fades, and he closes his eyes while his vision refocuses. Wilbur becomes aware of blood. Blood, trickling from his nose and ears. Blood, spilling into his eyes from a cut on his forehead. Blood, staining his uniform as multiple slices sting on his torso.

Finally he opens his eyes and takes in his surroundings. He’s in a small, obsidian room with a narrow tunnel extending out of the side. Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy stand around him, each one looking beat up and utterly defeated. Wilbur’s gaze goes straight to the blood streaming from each of their noses. “You need potions,” he rasps out, his throat scratchy and dry. 

Immediately he’s met with protests from all three boys. “Oh, like hell I’m going to take a potion,” Tommy scoffs, while Fundy argues, “You took the full force of the initial blasts, Wilbur. No way I’m going to accept a potion when you’re in this state.” Tubbo nods vigorously and thrusts another pink potion into Wilbur’s hands. 

Wilbur relents, his resistance crumbling easily. He uncaps the potion and drinks from it slowly, carefully making sure he only drinks about a third of it. It does help, he’ll admit that. His entire body aches, but he’s lucky that that’s about the extent of it. TNT explosions aren’t fire based and do the most damage with shrapnel. He should be glad that there wasn’t anything around that could seriously injure him.

“Wilbur… what- what was that?” Tubbo asks hesitantly. “Was… how… how did they- how did you-”

“I should have known,” Wilbur whispers, looking down at his hands. “I should have guessed it sooner.”

“Guessed what, Wilbur?” Tommy prods.

“Eret,” Wilbur says simply. “This is his doing. He laced the very ground underneath L’manberg. All Dream had to do was light one piece of TNT and…” He mimes an explosion with his hands. “It hit me right before the explosions began. I didn’t have enough time.”

Silence falls over the group. Wilbur swallows hard. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. This isn’t the story he wants to be told. They aren’t supposed to be sent running with their tails between their legs. 

“I-” Wilbur hesitates, then sighs. “I don’t think- they’ve trapped our land. They’ve surrounded us completely. They know our plans. We have our backs against the wall, and I don’t have any more plans. I… don’t… think we can win this fight. We’ve lost so much…” He looks at the boys standing around him. “I feel like I would be a bad general if I didn’t look for conditions of surrender.” 

Tommy opens his mouth, then closes it and turns his head away. His lips are pressed together in a tight line but he doesn’t say anything. Fundy’s ears lower slowly and he rubs at his nose, trying to wipe away the blood. Tubbo hunches his shoulders. Sadness overcomes Wilbur as he watches his boys. He’s right. He just doesn’t want to be.

“I’m going to go to Dream and talk about our surrender,” Wilbur says quietly. “Tommy, I’d like you to come with me.” Tommy looks up in surprise, but Wilbur doesn’t acknowledge it. “Tubbo, Fundy, salvage what you can from L’manberg. Be careful; we don’t know if all of the TNT was detonated.” Wilbur stands up and straightens his jacket. “Let’s go. Stay safe.”


	10. When The Sun Sets

Tommy follows Wilbur out of the bunker. He’s not satisfied. Not satisfied with any of it. But Wilbur does have a point- they’ve lost. Their land is gone, their supplies are gone, they’re physically weakened, but the Dream Team is still going strong. 

He makes a small, irritated noise. It catches Wilbur’s attention, and he glances back. Tommy flashes him a tight smile. He knows Wilbur’s just doing what best for them, but something still just doesn’t feel right. They could do better. They could be  _ fighting _ . Tommy can do it, he’s sure of it.

Wilbur stops suddenly and Tommy runs into him. Before he can say anything, Wilbur turns around and places one hand firmly on his shoulder. “Tommy.”

“Y-yeah?” Tommy asks, the hard look in Wilbur’s eyes making him anxious.

“I chose you to come with me because you’re my right hand man. However, I know you. When we meet with Dream, you will not speak. You will not make any sudden moves. You will not touch your weapons. You will _ not _ attack or challenge Dream.” Wilbur shakes him. “Do you understand?”

Tommy laughs nervously. Wilbur’s scaring him a little bit. “No, no, no, no,” he says quickly, maybe too quickly. Wilbur’s eyes narrow. “I won’t! I won’t, I won’t, I won’t, I won’t,” Tommy assures him, delicately removing his hand from his shoulder. 

Apparently this is enough for Wilbur. He steps back and nods briskly. “Good. I’d like this to go as smoothly as possible.” 

He starts walking again and Tommy scrambles to keep up. Wilbur’s too perceptive. Tommy hadn’t necessarily planned on challenging Dream, although he knew the chance of it is probably high. But Wilbur seems entirely too ready to murder Tommy on the spot if he tries to pick any fights. 

A stray drop of blood drips off his chin and he swipes his hand across his nose irritably. The scale of the explosion had made it impossible for any of them to emerge unscathed, but Wilbur had taken the brunt of it. A chill runs through Tommy at the memory of Wilbur lying there on the ground, eyes wide and glazed over. Tommy had thought he was dead. 

Regardless of what Wilbur says, Dream needs to pay for that.

Tommy follows Wilbur through the trees. As they break the treeline Tommy immediately sees Dream, framed perfectly against the sky. Tommy’s hand drifts to the hilt of his sword unbidden and Wilbur catches his wrist, shaking his head. “No weapons,” he murmurs. Tommy reluctantly pulls his hand back.

Dream notices their approach and strides forward. “Shall we try this again?” he asks coolly. “Or should I find more TNT?”

Tommy snarls, and Wilbur steps in front of him. “That won’t be necessary,” Wilbur says, quiet but firm. “We’ve come to negotiate surrender.”

“Okay,” is all Dream says. Tommy opens his mouth, about to cuss Dream out, then catches a look from Wilbur and closes it, tapping his hand against his waist restlessly. 

“Yes. We-” Wilbur looks down briefly. “We fought well. But we can’t go for much longer.”

“I wouldn’t say well.”

“You egotistical green bastard,” Tommy spits. 

“I guess you had a few good tactics,” Dream amends. “Ours were just better.” He laughs to himself.

He  _ laughs. _

Tommy starts forward and Wilbur blocks him, shunting him back and muttering a sharp reprimand under his breath. Dream continues, unbothered by Tommy’s anger. “We’ll accept your surrender. Of course, we can’t have you trying that again, so we can throw most of you in prison, maybe even a couple executions-”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING TOUCH THEM!” Tommy lunges at Dream, ducking under Wilbur’s restraining arm. “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE IF YOU SO MUCH AS LAY A FINGER ON ANY OF THEM-”

“Tommy!” Wilbur shouts. He hooks his arms under Tommy’s, forcibly keeping him back. Tommy thrashes against his grip.

“YOU WANNA FIGHT SOMEONE FIGHT ME FIGHT ME YOU FUCKING COWARD! FIGHT ME! I’LL GO RIGHT NOW, ONE VERSUS ONE, JUST YOU AND ME JUST DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE HURT ANY OF THEM!”

“Tommy, calm!” Wilbur yells, clapping his hand over Tommy’s mouth. “Dream, this man does not speak for me, I just want a peaceful-”

“What are the details of the one versus one?”

Wilbur’s hand slackens on Tommy’s mouth and he wrenches free. “Just you and me,” he gasps out. “No one else. A duel. Ten paces. One arrow each. Sundown. If I win, L’manberg gets its freedom. If you win, you can have L’manberg. Just don’t hurt any of them.”

Dream stands still for a moment, thinking. “I agree with those terms.”

Wilbur grabs a hold of Tommy’s collar. “Dream,” he says tightly, nodding in his direction. Then Wilbur turns on his heel and takes off, dragging Tommy along with him. Tommy struggles for purchase on the ground, unable to keep up with the older boy’s long strides.

“Wilbur, Wilbur I just- Wilbur, please-” Wilbur stops suddenly and rounds on Tommy, eyes blazing. Tommy shrinks back instinctively.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Wilbur hisses. “Challenging Dream to a- what was the one thing I asked? What was the one thing I asked of you, Tommy? What do you think this is going to solve? Either you kill Dream, cementing yourself as an enemy, or-” Wilbur’s voice breaks. “Or he kills  _ you _ . I was trying to avoid any more bloodshed by looking for surrender. L’manberg can’t- Tubbo can’t-” He looks down, blinking rapidly. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you. My job is to protect you. I can’t do that in a duel.” 

Tommy’s at a loss for words, anger evaporating. He didn’t mean to hurt his brother. “Wilbur, I…”

Wilbur shakes his head and releases his grip on Tommy’s collar. He looks absolutely defeated. “I can’t stop you, Tommy. This is your decision. Your choice. Dream’s already agreed to the duel. If you want to go through with it, I’m not going to try to convince you otherwise.” Their eyes meet and Tommy’s taken aback by the intensity in Wilbur’s gaze. “We go back to L’manberg. And you  _ train.  _ You train like your life depends on it, because it does.” 

With that, Wilbur starts towards L’manberg. Tommy grins weakly and follows him. He hadn’t been thinking about how Wilbur might react to the challenge, and honestly he’s a little surprised. He knew immediately from Wilbur’s initial reaction that he wouldn’t approve. But he had expected more of a fight, an argument as to why he had to do it. And he does. He does have to. For L’manberg. For Tubbo. For Wilbur, for Fundy.

There’s no backing out. 

The walls of L’manberg grow larger as they approach. Tommy begins to realize the magnitude of what he’s done. He’s going to go up against  _ Dream. _ The same Dream that lets his friends hunt him for fun. The Dream that’s gone toe to toe with Technoblade and nearly beaten him too. Dream, widely renowned as a strategist and fighter. And Tommy? Tommy causes problems on the server and tries to steal people’s property. 

He passes Tubbo, who spots him and looks up. “How did it go?” he asks apprehensively.

Tommy rubs the back of his neck, trying to appear more sheepish than anxious. “Yeah… I, um, kinda challenged Dream. To a duel. So.”

Tubbo’s face falls. “Tommy, you-”

“Yeah, it’s not good,” Tommy admits. 

“Why did Wilbur let you do that?”

“Well… he didn’t really. I just sorta started yelling. Wilbur doesn’t approve, but he said he’d help me train if I insisted on going through with it.”

“Can’t you just back out?”

“I- I can’t.” Tommy looks at Tubbo’s crestfallen face and winces. He really didn’t think this through. “I have to do it. For L’manberg. Look, Tubbo, if I win, that’s it! We get our independence!”

“It’s a double loss if you don’t,” Tubbo says quietly. 

Tommy stays silent. He wants to reassure Tubbo, tell him that it’s fine and that he’s got this in the bag. But he doesn’t want to lie to Tubbo either. “I have to train,” he says finally. “It’s… I have to train.”

He walks away from Tubbo, his throat tight. He’d thought his friends would be… supportive? Thankful? Tommy is putting everything on the line for them, and they’re just upset. The odds aren’t in his favor, but the chance that he’ll win is enough.

Right?

The rest of the day passes in a blur. Tommy moves mechanically, gathering materials, potions, food. He thinks about training for a solid ten minutes, then gives up on it, feeling sick to his stomach. Instead he helps salvage what he can from the site of the explosions, although even then he doesn’t come up with much. 

And then it’s time.

Tommy’s hands shake as he tries to button up his jacket. He’s not ready for this. Wilbur steps in front of him, doing the last button. “This is your last chance,” Wilbur murmurs. 

“I- I have to do this,” Tommy whispers. “Wilbur, I-” He takes a deep, shaky breath. “Do I shoot him, Will, or do I aim for the sky?” 

Wilbur straightens Tommy’s collar. Tommy’s surprised to see pride mixed with the sadness in his eyes. “Tommy, I want you to do whatever your heart feels is right. And Tommy…” He looks down and shakes his head, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Tommyinnit, I’m proud of you.” 

Tommy offers him a nervous grin. “Thanks, Big Man.”

He notices Dream a couple yards away. George and Sapnap are flitting around him, and Tommy sees the enchanted crossbow in his hands. “I need a bow,” Tommy realizes. He looks around dazedly. “Does anyone- does anyone have a bow…?”

Someone taps his shoulder and Tommy turns around to see Fundy. The fox is uncharacteristically serious as he holds out a bow. “I don’t support this. But here.” 

“I’ll return it to you when I’m finished.” Tommy flashes him a tight smile. 

“It’s sundown,” George calls out, glancing over his shoulder. “Tommy, are you ready?”

Tommy nods, his stomach doing flips. He walks up to Dream, who holds out his hand. Tommy shakes it once. “You both know the rules?” Wilbur asks. Both of them nod. “Alright. I count to ten. You walk ten paces apart. When I reach ten, you turn and shoot. One shot. If Tommy wins, we get our independence. If Dream wins…” He bows his head. “You get L’manberg. Take your marks.”

Tommy turns his back to Dream, nocking an arrow in his bow. He sees Tubbo and Fundy a little ways away. Both have their eyes fixed on him.

“One, two, three.”

_ For L’manberg. _

“Four, five six.”

_ Will I shoot? _

“Seven, eight, nine.”

_ Will Dream shoot?  _

“Ten paces, fire!”

Tommy whips around, pulling the arrow back as far as it will go, and releases it.

Almost in slow motion, he watches his arrow fall harmlessly in the grass.

And Dream’s arrow sinks into his gut.


	11. Stay Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild blood? Not too much, but I mean, Tommy did get shot so...

“ _ TOMMY _ !” Tubbo screams. Tommy sways on his feet, hands fumbling at the arrow shaft implanted in his gut. Wilbur stands frozen in place, mouth open in shock.

Then Tommy collapses to the ground. 

“NO!” Wilbur bursts out and shoots forward, falling to his knees next to Tommy. Already there’s blood blooming around the wood of the arrow. Dream knew exactly what he was doing. 

“Tommy, Tommy, Tommy,” Tubbo whimpers. He wraps his hand around the arrow, about to pull it out, and Wilbur stops him.

“You could make it worse,” Wilbur says, his voice quavering. “Tommy, Tommy, stay with us, stay with us-”

“Wilbur- T-Tubbo, I-” Tommy’s blue eyes are wide and his chest rises and falls rapidly. Blood trickles from the corner of his mouth. “I can’t-”

“Tommy-” Tubbo breaks down into sobs. Blood’s now soaking into the ground, pooling around Wilbur’s knees. 

“Potions,” Wilbur mutters. “We need potions, Tubbo, potions-” He pats himself down and comes up with nothing. “Tommy, just hang on, I’ll find something, just hang on-”

Tommy shudders. “Will- Wilbur, I can’t- I can’t m-move, Will-”

“Tommy, no, no- Tommy  _ please _ -” Tubbo stammers, tears spilling from his eyes. He clutches on to Tommy’s hand. Tommy doesn’t respond to the contact, his face getting paler every second.

Wilbur realizes that Fundy’s also by his side, eyes wild. “Wilbur, Niki, Niki’s bakery’s close, she could help, we have to go to Niki.” 

“Tommy, Tommy, I’m going to move you, just keep your eyes open and focus.” Wilbur slides his arm under Tommy’s body, lifting him bridal style. “You just have to hang on until we reach Niki’s, Niki will help and you’ll be fine.”

“Wilbur… W-Wilbur, I’m cold.” 

Tommy’s eyelids start to flutter shut. “Tommy, hang on,” Wilbur says, growing increasingly frantic. “Tommyinnit, you stay with us. That is an order, you understand? Don’t you fucking- Tommyinnit, stay with us-”

Tommy’s head lolls back. Tubbo lets out a panicked cry and Wilbur breaks in a run, moving as fast as he dares to. No, no, no. Not Tommy. He can’t- no, he  _ won’t _ let him die. He refuses to let his brother die today. 

After what feels like an eternity Niki’s house comes into view. Wilbur can’t open the door with his hands; he slams his foot into the door instead. It doesn’t open, and he kicks it again and again, becoming desperate. Finally the door opens, and he barely stops himself from kicking Niki in the chest. “Get a potion,” he gasps out. “We need potions- Tommy needs help- Dream- please, Niki-”

Niki hesitates for only a moment. “Take him back here.” She moves briskly into the back room, and Wilbur follows her. Tubbo tries to follow, and Niki stops him gently. “Wait out here,” she says softly. “I… we’ll get you.”

Wilbur lays Tommy down on a bed in the center of the room. Niki darts around the room, pulling out materials. “We need to take the arrow out and dress the wound before giving him any potions.” Niki grabs a thick roll of bandages. “He’s already lost a lot of blood; much more and we’ll lose him.” She kneels down next to Tommy and fixes her gaze on Wilbur. “When I say now, take out the arrow.”

Nodding shakily, Wilbur wraps bloodstained hands around the arrow shaft. “And… now!” Niki says. In one smooth motion, Wilbur yanks out the arrow. Immediately a fresh wave of blood spurts out and he sees just how deep the arrow went. Niki gets to work, cutting open Tommy’s shirt and pulling it back to get a better look at the wound.

“There’s so much blood,” Wilbur breathes. “Niki, will he-?”

“Needle and thread.” Niki snaps her fingers, delicately sponging the blood off of the wound with her other hand. “On the table. Quick.”

Wilbur obliges, accidentally stabbing his finger with the needle in his haste. He passes it to Niki, who takes it without looking up. Her fingers move quickly, the needle flashing as it dips in and out of Tommy’s wound. Wilbur watches helplessly, radiating anxiety. Finally Niki sits back. “I’m going to bandage it,” she pants. “Give him the potions while I do that. No more than three, and do it slowly. Stop when you see color returning to his face. Three should be plenty.”

He grabs the potions from the ground and crouches next to Tommy’s head. Wilbur’s heart breaks upon seeing the younger boy’s ghostly pale face. As Niki wraps bandages around Tommy’s torso, Wilbur tips the first potion in his mouth. He pauses, looking for any sign that it might be working. Nothing. Wilbur tries again, uncorking the second potion and force-feeding it to Tommy. “Niki, it’s not-”

“Will, I’m trying. After you give him the third one, it’s not up to us anymore.”

Wilbur’s hands tremble as he pours the last potion into Tommy’s mouth.  _ Please, please work. _ “Niki, he’s still so pale…” 

Niki squeezes his hand with her own blood-coated hand. “Tommy’s still breathing. Potions don’t always kick in right away. We’ve taken the arrow out, cleaned the wound, stitched it, and bandaged it. Tommy’s strong. He can do this.”

Together they watch the faint rise and fall of Tommy’s chest.  _ If my younger brother dies, I’ll never be able to forgive myself. I won’t let me forgive myself.  _ Eventually Niki asks tentatively, “Will, what… what happened? What happened to him?”

“The plan was to surrender,” Wilbur says quietly. “They’d trapped L’manberg. We almost died. When I met with Dream to surrender, Tommy challenged him. For some godforsaken reason he agreed. He had an  _ enchanted crossbow _ . Tommy didn’t stand a chance.” He shakes his head, his throat suddenly tight. “I- I need some air.”

He stands up abruptly and opens the door to the room, narrowly avoiding Tubbo. Instantly Tubbo’s trying to peer into the room. “Is he-”

“You can go in,” Wilbur confirms. Tubbo dashes into the room, followed by Fundy, who must have come in recently. Wilbur runs his bloodied fingers through his hair, not caring about the blood. He’d warned Tommy. He had  _ warned _ him. Niki had done well, but even she said that they’ve done all they can. 

A sharp rap on the door catches his attention. Wilbur fixes a neutral expression on his face and opens the door. Punz stands in front of him. “I’m here-” Punz stops mid sentence and his eyes go wide. Wilbur realizes how scary he must look. He’s completely covered in Tommy’s blood, there are dark shadows under his eyes, and his uniform is torn and ragged. He probably looks like a madman.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Wilbur asks.

Punz clears his throat, his eyes flickering from side to side like he’s looking for an escape. “I, um… well, I’m under orders from Dream to arrest you, Wilbur.”

Wilbur nods once. What’s the point in resisting? They’ve lost. “Alright.”

“You’re… not going to fight?” Punz sounds genuinely surprised. 

“I am not. Just leave Tommy, Niki, Fundy, and Tubbo alone. You can take me.”

Punz blinks. “Um… okay then.” He steps forward, tying Wilbur’s wrists together. “Wilbur Soot, you are under arrest.”

Wilbur lets Punz lead him away, casting one last glance back at Niki’s bakery. Maybe with him imprisoned, Tommy will be protected for a little bit longer. Maybe Dream will be satisfied with just him. And if Tommy dies…

Then Wilbur’s in the perfect position to burn the SMP from the inside out.


	12. Deal With The Devil

He’s surrounded completely by darkness. Just blank, empty void.

And Tommy hates it.

He blinks rapidly, but it doesn’t do anything. If anything it makes it worse. He starts to panic a bit. He doesn’t like this. This is wrong. Unnatural. 

Suddenly he’s aware that there’s no longer an arrow in his gut. Tommy feels around his midsection, trying to find the wound, but it’s gone. There’s no trace of it. It’s like it simply vanished. 

_ Did I… die? _

No, but he can still think, can’t he? He still seems to have a body, right? He can move? Is that even relevant?

The feeling of wrongness is becoming overbearing. Tommy’s breathing is sharp and ragged. This isn’t right. He hates this, this place, this sensation, this darkness, and he wants  _ out _ . He wishes someone else is here with him, like Tubbo, or Wilbur-

_ Wilbur. _

_ What would Wilbur do? _

Wilbur wouldn’t panic, that’s for sure.

Tommy tries to control his breathing. Wilbur would stay calm and think reasonably about this. There doesn’t appear to be any way to just walk out. He seems completely trapped.

_ Wilbur would try to find a way around this, think outside the box. _

Maybe it’s a mental trap, not a physical one. Tommy forces his eyes shut and concentrates. He can do this. All he has to do is focus on getting out.

He doesn’t want to be here.

He wants to get out.

He just wants to see his friends again, to laugh with Tubbo and argue with Wilbur.

_ Let me out. _

Tommy opens his eyes and is completely blinded by sunlight.  _ I’m out. _ For a moment he lies there, relishing the light. He lifts his head and sees a figure sitting by the end of the bed, hunched over a book. “Tubbo?” Tommy asks, his voice low and raspy. 

Tubbo jolts up, dropping his book. “Tommy!” he exclaims, face splitting into a wide smile. “Tommy, you’re awake, we thought you- Tommy, I- we were afraid you were going to-” Tubbo gives up on speaking and wraps his arms around Tommy. Tommy doesn’t miss the way his friend treats him like he’s made of glass. 

He pushes himself up on his elbows, and feels a deep ache spreading from his stomach. Tommy winces and looks down. With a hint of embarrassment, he realizes that he isn’t wearing a shirt, although he supposes it doesn’t really matter. Thick bandages are wrapped around his torso, stretching from his navel to his shoulders. “Tubbo, what-”

“You need a healing potion,” Tubbo says, eyes flashing with worry. He bounces up and rummages through the cabinets against the wall, finally coming up with a potion. Tommy accepts the potion, but doesn’t drink it.

“Tubbo, I lost the duel,” Tommy says slowly. “I- does that mean L’manberg is…”

Tubbo’s smile drops and he looks down. “We’ve lost L’manberg,” he says quietly. “Tommy, they- they took Wilbur, they came for him right after Niki finished with you, he’s in prison-”

“WHAT?” Tommy yelps, sitting bolt upright. Pain flares from his wound and Tubbo tries to push him back down, but Tommy resists his efforts. “They can’t fucking do that!” 

“Actually, they can,” Tubbo says, flinching at Tommy’s loud voice. “He doesn’t have authority anymore and he was our general, they have every right to-”

“THAT’S BULLSHIT.”

Niki enters the room and immediately crosses to Tommy, gently forcing him back down onto the bed. She seems unperturbed by the shouting. “Tommy, please, calm down, you’re going to tear your stitches if you’re not careful.” She uncorks the potion that Tommy dropped and hands it back to him. “Drink this.”

“No, we have to get Wilbur, you don’t understand, Dream PROMISED ME-”

Niki’s eyes harden. “Drink. The potion. Tommy.” 

Tommy stops shouting, startled by Niki’s sternness. He always forgets that quiet, soft Niki can be so fierce, and every single time it catches him off guard and he obeys out of shock. He drinks the potion. “Thanks,” he says begrudgingly. “That helps.”

“Okay,” Niki says, relaxing. “You’ve been unconscious for about five days, so take it slow. There’s no infection and no lasting damage, but you do have to be careful of your stitches. I don’t want you pulling them out.”

“I’ll be careful,” Tommy says quickly. “But Niki, you don’t understand, I have to go talk to Dream, we can get Wilbur out of prison, you just have to let me-”

“Tommy, trust me, I want to get Wilbur out as much as you do,” interrupts Niki. Her voice wobbles slightly on Wilbur’s name. “But we  _ can’t _ . The best thing you can do right now is rest and heal.” She gently begins to usher Tubbo out of the room. “We’ll leave you alone for a bit. Try to get some sleep.”

“But I’ve been unconscious for five days!” Tommy yells, but the door’s already closing behind them.

Tommy sinks back onto the bed, sighing shakily. After everything they’ve been through, they lost. He thought he’d made an agreement with Dream. None of his friends would be hurt if he lost. But with Wilbur imprisoned… 

His eyes drift to the open window.

_ No. I can’t disobey Niki like that. _

But he needs to talk to Dream. He might have a chance to fix this. 

Tommy eases himself out of the bed, careful not to let his footsteps make the floorboards creak.  _ This isn’t right, _ a small voice in his head warns. Tommy ignores it. He has to do this. Maybe he’ll be disobeying Niki’s orders- Niki’s direct orders, in fact- but surely what he’s about to do is more important, right?

Immediately problems make themselves known when Tommy lifts his foot to climb out of the window. Splitting pain shoots through his stomach and he doubles over, hissing softly through his teeth. Fuck. This is gonna be harder than he previously thought. He spots a low table against the far wall, and carefully drags it over and positions it under the window. Gingerly he tests it, and is pleased to discover that the table both supports his weight and makes the climb significantly less painful. 

Slowly Tommy pulls himself through the window, biting his lip to keep in a pained yelp. His foot slips before he can fully lower himself and he lands in an undignified heap on the grass.  _ Fuck. _ Tommy groans quietly as he stands up. This is most definitely a bad idea. But it’s imperative that he carries through with his plan.

He steals through the woods, trying his best to be stealthy. It’s hard though; the bandages make his movements stiff and awkward. Tommy’s very aware that between his lack of weapons and his wound, he’s extremely vulnerable. If Dream decides to attack, he could easily kill Tommy. 

Tommy sees the warm glow of torches and hesitates. Once he’s out of the woods, there’s no turning back.  _ No. I’ve made up my mind. _ It suddenly occurs to him that everything in his plan could fall apart, and he frantically checks his back pocket. Good. They’re still there. No one went through his pockets while he was out.

“We’re doing this,” Tommy mutters to himself. “For L’manberg.” 

He steps out from the trees and is surprised to see exactly who he was looking for. “Dream?”

Dream starts and turns around. Tommy notes that he shows around the same level of surprise as he did. “You… survived,” Dream observes. His gaze goes straight to the bandages wrapped around Tommy’s torso, and Tommy shifts uncomfortably. “That’s… unexpected. I’m assuming Wilbur got you to Niki in time?”

“I want to talk.” Tommy diverts the subject. He doesn’t want to give Dream another target by confirming that Niki healed him. “Look, you- we lost. Eret betrayed us, you blew up our land, I lost the duel. We’ve fought so hard, and- I just-” He sighs and reaches into his pocket. “I’m willing to give you my discs. Cat and Mellohi. In exchange for L’manberg’s freedom.”

The mask on Dream’s face hides his expression as he stares down at the discs in Tommy’s outstretched hand. Tommy barely breathes as he waits. “You would give up your discs for L’manberg?” Dream repeats. His tone is unreadable.

“Yes.” Tommy’s voice shakes with tension. “And I want Wilbur out of prison.”

“You would give up your most prized possessions for your friends.”

It’s not a question, but Tommy answers it anyways. “Dream, I’ve already tried to give up my  _ life _ for my friends- my  _ family- _ and they healed me. If giving you my discs gets us our freedom? You better believe I’m going to do it.” 

Dream stands completely still. Tommy begins to get anxious. He’s taking too long to decide. This is bad, if it comes to a fight he’s done for-

“Okay.”

Tommy looks up as Dream takes the discs from his hand. “You’re- actually agreeing?”

“Yes,” Dream says simply. He tucks the discs into his pocket. “I’ll release Wilbur. I will still recognize L’manberg as a part of the Dream SMP, but you are free to do whatever you want with it as long as you stay within its borders.” He looks at Tommy’s gaping mouth and chuckles. “Go back to L’manberg. I’ll give the order to let Wilbur go and he’ll be back with you within the hour.”

And just like that, Dream turns and walks back to the heart of the SMP. 

Tommy blinks rapidly. It’s done. He did it. His plan worked.

L’manberg has its freedom.

He makes his way back to Niki’s bakery in a daze. As soon as he steps through the doorway, he’s met by a furious Niki. “Where were you? Tommy, you can’t climb through the window, you need rest-”

“I did it,” Tommy mumbles.

Niki stops shouting. “I’m sorry?”

Tommy looks at her. “I… did it. L’manberg’s free.”

The empty potion bottle she was holding shatters on the floor. The noise attracts Tubbo, who pokes his head up from behind the counter. “Wha-”

“L’manberg’s free,” Tommy repeats. 

Tubbo rockets to his feet and Fundy’s furry head pops up from behind the counter, mouth wide open. “Wait, really?” 

A laugh bubbles up from Tommy’s chest. “L’manberg’s free!” 

Fundy lets out a loud, ecstatic whoop. Niki sinks down into a chair, a weak grin sliding on to her face. A hysterical laugh escapes Tubbo. “You’re joking!” he says, disbelief written all over his face. 

“Tubbo! WE WON!” Tommy shouts, volume growing with his excitement. “L’MANBERG’S OURS!!!” Pain spreads from his stomach and he clutches his wound, still laughing through the pain. Niki makes a concerned noise and walks over, sitting Tommy down in a chair and gently poking at the injury. He’s not concerned by it.  _ L’manberg is free! _

“Tommy, Tommy, play the disc!” Tubbo says eagerly, eyes bright with excitement. “We can celebrate to the music!”

Tommy’s laughter stops. “Tubbo, I-”

At that moment, the door opens. Wilbur Soot ducks through the doorway, tired and bloodstained. Tommy jumps to his feet, forgetting about his wound. “What the fu-” Wilbur starts to say, but Tommy cuts him off, flinging himself at his brother and wrapping his arms around him. 

“Wilbur, L’manberg’s free! I got our freedom! WE’VE WON!”

Wilbur’s face slackens in shock. “I- what? You what?”

Fundy’s tail swishes happily from side to side. “L’manberg’s free, Will!”

The general carefully detangles himself from Tommy and stares down at him incredulously. “Are you- how? Why? Wha- how did you manage that? You lost the duel.”

Tommy looks down. “Yeah, uh, I was just about to… yeah.”

“What did you do.” Wilbur’s tone gets hard.

“I… I gave up my discs,” Tommy admits quietly. “Dream has them.”

Tubbo freezes in place. Wilbur’s eyes widen, and Fundy trips and nearly falls over. “You what?” Wilbur asks.

“Yeah, he… Dream has my discs.” 

Tommy feels Wilbur’s hand on his shoulder and he looks up apprehensively, expecting to get yelled at. Instead, Wilbur’s expression is surprisingly understanding. “You made a sacrifice,” he says softly. “A sacrifice for L’manberg. I’m… that’s…” He gives up on words, and hugs Tommy. 

He stands stock still, unsure how to react. Finally Tommy tentatively returns the hug. “I-” He melts. “Thank you, Wilbur.” 

Behind him, Tubbo sniffs and quickly joins the hug. Tommy laughs, and before he knows it, Fundy and Niki are both a part of the hug too. 

_ This is worth losing my discs for. _

Eventually Wilbur draws back. “That’s enough hugging for now,” he says, but he’s smiling. “We’ve won the war. L’manberg has its freedom. I say…”

Wilbur’s smile grows mischievous. Tommy grins widely. He can guess what Wilbur’s about to say.

“Let’s go celebrate.”


	13. What Comes Next

“What were you thinking?!?”

Sapnap slams his axe into the table, nearly splitting it in two. Dream doesn’t flinch, letting Sapnap get his anger out. Sapnap shouts again. “What’s the purpose in giving Man-child-berg freedom? We fought the battles, we out-strategized them, we blew up their land, we got Eret on our side, and you _fucking shot Tommy._ We’ve won this war. And you let them go!” He turns and hurls his axe at the wall. The blade sinks several inches into the wood. “FOR A COUPLE OF DAMN DISCS!”

Dream glances at George, who’s sitting in the corner. “George?”

“I-” He hesitates for a moment. “I agree with Sapnap, Dream. We crushed their rebellion, and you’ve kinda thrown that victory away. We have L’manberg in our grasp, and you-” George looks uncomfortable. “I don’t understand why you would give them freedom and let Wilbur go. We’re sending the message that they can get away with it. They won’t be satisfied with just L’manberg.”

“Thank you!” Sapnap says loudly, gesturing at George. 

Dream nods. “I know. It’s controversial.” He stands up and begins pacing the room. “You’re right. We won. We’re not sending them away with a lesson. We’re giving them what they want, even though it’s against our initial plan.” He fixes Sapnap with a hard look. “But I do have reasons for it.”

Sapnap’s eyebrows raise slightly, but he stays quiet. Dream continues. “For one thing, we’re showing them mercy. When L’manberg fails- and it will- we can accept them back into the SMP with minimal conflict. They’ll be more willing to come back to us. For another, they won’t try something else. They’ve seen how strong we are. Wilbur won’t want another war against us. Another thing. You seem to think that the discs aren't important.” He stares down Sapnap. "If anything they're the most important thing in that whole 'country.' They have influence over Tommy. And those discs are in _my_ possession. If we have control over the discs, we have control over L'manberg."

George looks down, and Dream feels his grudging agreement. Sapnap opens his mouth, then closes it. Dream takes a steadying breath, eyes trained on Sapnap. 

“What do we have to gain from this?” Sapnap asks after a tense moment of silence.

“We’ve bolstered our reputation,” Dream says immediately. That one’s easy. “And trust me-”

He glances over at the wall. A list of names are written there, keeping record of the server members. Dream, George, Sapnap, Badboyhalo, Wilbur, Tommy, and more, the list stretching almost to the floor. Dream’s eyes travel down to the very end and rest on the bottommost name, scratched out in red pen. 

“There’s more that can come out of this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Foreshadowing go brrrr :) I have more written for this, but I figure it's probably better to break it up so I don't have 41 chapters all in one place XD this is my first time posting on AO3 so I'll try to figure out how to make it part of a series in case the few people that read this want to read more


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